


Blood of the Spouse, Willingly Given

by Zakaira



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Mpreg, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-11-14
Packaged: 2018-01-12 13:10:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 32
Words: 98,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1186708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zakaira/pseuds/Zakaira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to Blood of the Enemy, Forcibly Taken. Picks up at Harry and Draco’s wedding, but the newlyweds aren’t in for a happily ever after just yet. Between the fact that they’re new parents with a baby to look after and the drama with Lucius’ upcoming trial and serious illness, there is a lot of turbulence in their lives. Add in a few arguments and misunderstandings and Harry wants a divorce, but changes his mind when he finds out that Draco is pregnant again. Draco isn’t willing to forgive so quickly, sick of Harry jumping to conclusions and assuming the worst when it comes to him and his friends and family. Draco sets Harry two tasks to win him back: show that he’s changed and get Lucius released. Can Harry succeed? Will he win Draco and his family back?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Warning: slash, mpreg, and contemplation of divorce.

* * *

* * *

 

            It was the letter taped onto the mirror above the dresser that made up Harry’s mind. He liked to get up and look out the window in the morning, especially if it was one of those rare sunny days; it gave him inspiration to get through his day. Draco, on the other hand, got up and looked at that letter first thing in the morning, every morning.

            Harry remembered how hard life had been for Draco in the days after their daughter was born. Draco was emotional and tired, going on four hours of sleep a night, but it was those letters that kept him going. When Draco couldn’t take it anymore, he’d shut himself away and read those letters until he had the inspiration to keep going. The highlight of his day was when his mother came over and delivered a new letter from his father. No matter what was going on, the sight brought a smile to Draco’s face. She’d visit Lucius in the morning and share the latest pictures of their granddaughter and return with a letter from her husband to her son. Draco obviously cherished each one, saving them and reading them over and over again.

            Cissy was a life saver in those days. Harry had no idea how to take care of a newborn and couldn’t even hold little Ipheion without fearing he’d drop her. Draco was better, but still a strung out new parent who couldn’t handle it all on his own. Cissy had stepped in and picked up the slack, helping Harry care for his daughter so that Draco could rest. After a few weeks of lessons from Cissy, Harry had a much better handle on what to do. She helped him with Draco too, telling him what he could do to lighten Draco’s load or cheer Draco up, so that the world didn’t get to be too much for her son. That translated into Draco taking better care of the baby and less stress for Harry.

            Lucius wasn’t there, but he helped in the only way he could, with his letters and words. With Lucius’ incarceration, Draco had taken to writing his father regularly; there were even a few visits after the charges against Draco were dropped. After the baby was born, Draco no longer had the time to write and when he did, he couldn’t find the words. But that didn’t matter, because day after day the letters came from Lucius with words of support and encouragement for Draco. Draco was visiting his father weekly now, but Cissy was visiting him daily. Cissy would visit Draco and then pass along to Lucius everything he needed to know to keep his writing pertinent.

            There were times when Harry thought that Lucius’ letters and Cissy’s visits were the only things holding Draco together. Healer Smith called it postpartum depression and said it was normal, but labeling it didn’t cure it. Only time, love, and support could do that. Eventually Draco did get better. Progress didn’t come over night, but a little at a time. After a few months, he was back to his normal self. Part of it was because Ipheion was older now and only woke up once during the night, allowing Draco to sleep. The other part was that during the passage of time, his hormones had balanced out.

            Draco was better these days, the baby wasn’t so little, and their little family had blossomed. Harry was without a doubt in love with Draco now. Before it’d been lust, but after having a child together and watching Draco struggle to take care of her through his depression, Harry couldn’t help but love him. The ordeal made Harry see just how strong and brave Draco was for getting through everything that has happened in the last few years. In hindsight he could see how hard it was for Draco to be in custody during his pregnancy. Everything in Draco’s life had changed; he’d been faced with the reality of murder and torture and cowered, they’d lost the war, Voldemort was dead, his father was in a holding cell, and he was pregnant by his enemy. But even with all of that going on, Draco had still made the best of it. Draco had held it together, done what was best for the baby, and hadn’t even caused Harry any trouble. Draco had even planned his own escape when the Death Eaters had kidnapped him. Somewhere along the way, Draco had grown up and turned into the type of man Harry wanted to be with; the type of man he could see spending the rest of his life with and the type he wanted to marry.

            Harry asked Draco to marry him when their daughter was just three months old. They hadn’t been dating for that long when he asked, but he loved Draco, they had a daughter together, and it was time. Draco had said yes, which three months later led Harry to his current predicament: picking Lucius Malfoy up from the Ministry Holding Facility, so that he could attend what was being dubbed, “The Wedding of the Century.” Lucius was still in the Ministry holding cells, the last of the Death Eaters to be tried, his trial scheduled to start just one week after the wedding.

            Lucius’ trial was the main factor in choosing the date of the wedding. They didn’t know how long the trial would last. Lucius’ lawyer promised to have an outrageous number of witnesses and pieces or evidence to go over. The prosecutor personally told Harry that he had just as much evidence on the other side. It was pretty much guaranteed to be a long drawn out affair and not the type of thing to put one in the mood for a wedding, even if Lucius won. If Lucius lost, there was no telling what would happen to the wedding plans.

            Having the wedding before the trial was Harry’s idea. Draco had wanted to wait until after the trial, so that Lucius could be there to see them get married. Draco was of course assuming his father would get off and had no plans for how they’d arrange the wedding once Lucius was in Azkaban. Knowing Draco, he’d probably refuse to get married anywhere other than his father’s cell, so that Lucius could be there. But before the trial, with Lucius only an accused Death Eater, not a convicted one, Harry could arrange a day pass for the event. Harry had to take responsibility for Lucius for the day and ensure the man didn’t escape, but it was better than the alternative.

            Once they had agreed to have it before the trial, Draco’s first suggestion for the venue had been the Ministry for Magic, the Auror department specifically. That was where the interrogation rooms were located and where they’d been visiting Lucius of late. It was Harry’s doing, because Cissy had been about to take Draco and their barely one week old baby to the Ministry holding cells for a visit. After the charges against Draco had been dropped and his house arrest removed, he’d started visiting his father again. It was only natural that he’d want to visit with his daughter to show her off.

            Harry had absolutely forbid the visit, which didn’t go over too well with Draco in the fragile state he’d been in. Legally, Draco was free and according to the document Harry had signed, had full custody of their daughter. Harry hadn’t wanted to take the baby away from Draco and was happy to sign the agreement guaranteeing him visitation rights every weekend. Of course they were dating, which meant he got to see his daughter all of the time, but they weren’t married, so legally Draco had full custody.

            Draco was free to take their daughter wherever he wanted, even if that was to visit an inmate in jail. Draco flat out said that Harry would have to sue for full custody to stop him. Harry didn’t want to do that and had eventually come up with a compromise: he had Lucius moved to an interrogation room in the Auror department and brought his boyfriend and daughter into work with him. Draco and Ipheion met with Lucius in a more comfortable environment without the oppressive atmosphere of the jail.

            The visits were a weekly occurrence and always cheered Draco up. But Harry didn’t want to get married there in the Ministry during one of those visits. Thus he’d arranged with his bosses Shacklebolt and Robards to sign Lucius out for the day. Shacklebolt was actually one of the wizards Harry was enlisting to help him with Lucius, because Lucius had to be guarded and watched at all times. Ron, Arthur, and Bill Weasley were the others who had agreed to help with the task.

            The Weasleys were all invited to the wedding, as Harry’s guests, so also employing some of them to guard Lucius was expedient. There were any number of volunteer Aurors who offered their services for the day, but it was to be a small wedding and each and every seat was reserved for someone of importance. Draco had wanted a large wedding, but Harry had wanted a small one, so they’d compromised on fifty people. Harry had given his twenty seats to all of his friends and favorite Weasleys, while with only thirty seats, Draco had had to turn away all family members who were more distant than second cousin. The only friends Draco had invited were in their wedding party. The venue was large enough to hold more people, but they’d agreed on fifty and were sticking to it, because they wanted it small, cozy, and personal.

            After much debate, they’d gone with Leeds Castle in Kent as their venue. Draco’s Ministry suggestion was taken off the table when Harry arranged for the day pass for Lucius. Harry had countered with the Burrow, to which Draco had responded with a look of incredulity, before insisting that he wasn’t having a Weasley wedding. Draco had countered with Malfoy Manor, which happened to be one of a handful of places they were not authorized to take Lucius under the day pass. Harry had countered with Hogwarts, since it was summer and school was out. Draco had offered Leeds in return.

            The Malfoy family had a summer cottage in Maidstone, near the castle. They went there on holidays every year and Draco had fond memories of the place. It was close enough to London that Lucius could continue to work, had a village filled with middle-aged pureblood witches for Cissy to have tea with, and was a veritable paradise for Draco to enjoy. Their cottage was right along the river, which led to the lake and moat surrounding Leeds Castle. And the castle had been set up for wizard weddings for hundreds of years.

            Leeds’ was a smaller castle than Hogwarts, but it was a thread of the same cloth. It was on an island in a man-made lake, or large moat just off of the river Medway and the Great Water Lake. There was a lawn down by the lake on the other side of the moat, which had a perfect view of the water and the castle. Best of all, the water bank was covered in ivory colored Narcissus flowers. Then there was the castle, which held the formal dining room where they’d had the rehearsal dinner and the banquet room, where the reception was to be held.

            When the castle wasn’t being used for weddings, it was a popular tourist destination, with posh hotel rooms on the upper floors. There were a number of rooms set up to house a country club, full of activities for wizards on holiday, including a standard auditorium, for plays, comedy, and various other shows, along with gym, spa, bar, restaurant, and game room. There was even a museum inside and a golf-course outside. Swimming and fishing were allowed in the lake and were always popular in the summer. There was a maze and grotto outside, which a teenaged Draco had loved to explore on holiday.

            As a boy, Draco had frequented the castle country club and seen extravagant weddings held there. He’d always thought that he wanted his wedding to be like that. Of course he’d planned for it to be in the garden at Malfoy Manor, where all Malfoy weddings were held, but his ancestral home was off the table. The castle was an obvious second choice and Harry had been sold on it just from Draco’s passionate description of the place. In Harry’s eyes, the only mark against the castle was that it wasn’t simple enough.

            The wedding theme was simple extravagance. They arrived at it by each putting forth one word they wanted to describe their dream wedding. Which wizard had put forth which term was blatantly obvious and no one had asked for further explanation. Instead they’d just admired the understated expense of it all. Draco tended to go big, but Harry was the perfect balance, pulling Draco back into a more manageable wedding. There was one simple bouquet of expensive ivory colored flowers, along with the ivory colored Narcissuses growing beside the lake and that was it for flowers. Everything else was plain black, except for a few specific things they’d agreed to splurge on.

            The wedding was all arranged and it was sure to be the perfect combination of understated class. The only thing that could possibly go wrong was Lucius. Harry worried that Lucius had been lying about being okay with the wedding and only pretending to be supportive. It was rather unbelievable that the same Lucius Malfoy who had so eagerly stood by Voldemort’s side as his master attempted to murder Harry, was the same man who didn’t have a problem with his son marrying Harry Potter. But it was true.

            Above all else, Lucius Malfoy was a loving father who wanted the best for his son; that much was clear. Draco wanted to marry Harry and Lucius wanted Draco to be happy, so he was okay with the marriage. He’d accepted their daughter with open arms, having every intention of being a doting grandfather. He’d cringed at hearing her last name, because he would’ve preferred her to be a Malfoy, but he understood why Draco had done it. He’d rather the little princess was named Ipheion Linnaea Malfoy, but he held his tongue, for his son’s sake. And he’d written all of those letters, expressing his love and support.

            The most inspirational of Lucius’ letters was the one he’d written in response to hearing of Harry and Draco’s engagement. Harry hadn’t bothered asking for Lucius’ permission to marry Draco, as was tradition, because he didn’t think he needed it. Draco said yes, but would’ve preferred if Harry had asked Lucius, as was protocol. Draco worried and fretted all night, when he should’ve been celebrating, because he didn’t know what his father would say. Cissy had told Lucius the next morning and come back with the letter that Draco had taped to his bedroom mirror above the dresser and looked at every morning for the last three months. It was Lucius’ words that made up Harry’s mind to go through the hassle of arranging for the man to attend the wedding, instead of trying to convince Draco that he didn’t need his father there.

            In the letter, Lucius had given Draco his blessing to marry Harry. He wrote that it was a good match and would make the Malfoy family proud. It was a fertile pairing that had already produced one wonderful child and he wished them another child, along with all of the love and happiness in the world. He’d called Harry a good man, worthy of marrying his son and capable of supporting their little family. He’d even apologized for his actions again. It was a beautiful and moving letter.

            Lucius had apologized to Harry in person. It was the first thing he’d done after greeting his son and granddaughter during that first visit in Auror Headquarters. He repented his actions as a Death Eater, claimed he hadn’t realized just how demented the Dark Lord was, and wished he’d never supported the evil lunatic. Then again, everyone was saying that now that the war was over. It was time to turn sides and the Malfoys were notorious for always ending up on the right side. Even so, Harry believed Lucius, because of the way in which the man spoke of what the Dark Lord had done to Draco.

            Impregnating Draco against his will as a punishment was reprehensible to Lucius and he claimed that in retaliation, he started slipping privileged information to the Aurors. Back when he had his wand, he’d imperiused one of the Aurors who’d refused to work for Voldemort. At first he’d done it to get inside information on the Aurors, to aid in the Dark Lord’s take down of the Ministry. Then he’d done it to aid in the Death Eater control of the Aurors. However, toward the end, he’d used that Auror to pass top-secret information on the Dark Lord and his fellow Death Eaters to the Aurors who were still on the loose, working for the Order of the Phoenix.

            Add in that Lucius hadn’t had a wand since before the battle of the seven Potters and hadn’t fought in a battle since the Department of Mysteries and he was hopeful for a favorable outcome at trial. On the other hand, he’d admitted to using two of the three unforgivables and was suspected of using the third, which did not bode in his favor. But then it was a war and not a cut and dry case; it’d take a trial to decide what to do with him and a long one at that.

            Sometimes Harry thought that Lucius was only being so supportive because of his looming trial. He worried that Lucius would change his mind and take back his approval. Maybe Lucius could hold his tongue about the baby’s last name, but would he be able to do the same during the wedding? Saying that you’re alright with something and _actually being alright_ with it are too different things. Once it’s actually happening, Lucius could suddenly realize how awful it is for his heir to be married to a Potter.

            Harry really hoped that a blowup from Lucius wasn’t in store for them. Draco would be devastated and might call off the wedding, if something happened before their vows were said. Harry had nightmares the night before that when the druid asked, “Is there any reason why these two should not be wed,” Lucius would stand up and object. Lucius would claim that Harry wasn’t worthy of his son and that Harry was a no class orphan raised by muggles.

            Then Harry had woken up and been faced with nothing more sinister than an empty bed, because Draco hadn’t wanted them to see each other before the wedding. Draco and the baby had stayed with his mother for the night and they would meet Harry at the castle. Harry was left with the tasks of getting himself dressed, making sure his groom’s mates Ron and Hermione were dressed properly, and picking Lucius up.

            Harry’s robes were classic ivory, trimmed with black and paired with a black on black filigree vest. They were tailored, but made out of the type of fabric that was advertised to withstand three year olds with ice cream cones. Ron and Hermione, who made up Harry’s half of the wedding party, had outfits made out of the same ivory fabric. With a gay wedding, there were no bridesmaids and groomsmen. Instead they each had friends of either sex stand up for them, unifying them by wearing the same color fabric.

            Hermione looked gorgeous in her understated ivory pantsuit; she’d forgone the dress, so that no one confused her with the bride. Ron’s ivory and black dress robes were similar to Harry’s, but with a more professional business man cut to them. When the time came to go, they assured him that they would check that everything was set up perfectly at the castle and he’d gone along to the Ministry for Lucius.

            It was an evening wedding, so the place should’ve been deserted, but every Auror was waiting in headquarters to get a peek at Harry before the big event. They swarmed him, wishing him well and some of them even asking again if they could go. Draco would’ve loved to invite them all, but Harry had wanted to keep it small. He had no problem telling his colleagues no and he did so again now.

            Bill and Arthur Weasley were waiting with Kingsley Shacklebolt and Gawain Robards for Harry. Lucius was already checked out of the holding cells and waiting in the interrogation room. It was a mere formality, because Kingsley or Arthur could’ve done it all, but Ministry policy stated that it had to be the one who made the request. Harry had made the request, so he had to sign the appropriate forms and cast the spell binding Lucius to him, as his captive.

            Harry did as instructed and side-along apparated his soon-to-be father-in-law to the lawn where the wedding was to be held. Bill, Arthur, and Kingsley followed after. Then there were spells to bind Lucius to the grounds and another to bind him to his chair, for good measure. Bill, Arthur, and Kingsley were stationed around Lucius, watching his every move. They all had enough experience to be well-qualified for the task. They were attendees of the wedding and as such a certain amount of mingling was required, but they did it in turns, with one or two of them by Lucius’ side at all times.

            Lucius seemed eager and excited during the brief time Harry spent transporting him. He was walking a bit slow, shuffling his feet with a bit of a limp, but then he was an old man now and his cane had been taken away. Lucius had wished him luck and he had other things to do, so he left the man in good hands.

            The sun setting behind the castle blinded Harry for a moment as he walked toward his pavilion. The conjured lights were just coming on and he followed the string of them until he reached his destination.

            Harry knew their wedding had to be at night the moment he saw the castle after the sunset. Draco had suggested they take the baby and have a picnic supper by the lake, so that Harry could fall in love with the place the way that Draco had. They’d stayed and watched the beautiful sunset. It was a particularly pleasant, warm late spring day and Ipheion had fallen asleep for her evening nap. They’d stayed longer, enjoying the feel of each other’s arms and sensual kisses. It had gotten dark and the stars had come out, amplified by the ancient spell on the sky; it’d been beautiful.

            Chief among Harry’s pre-wedding concerns was his daughter, Ipheion, or Eiona as he called her. She was six months old, which was not the best age for a flower girl at a wedding. But she was their princess and they’d both agreed she had to be their flower girl. The dress Draco had picked out was the most expensive fairy princess dress he could find for a six month old. It cost a fortune, but that was one expense Harry didn’t try to talk Draco out of, because their daughter just looked so adorable in it.

            Harry found his daughter safely ensconced in Molly Weasley’s arms. They were waiting in the pavilion set up for Harry’s side of the wedding party, on the right side of the lawn.

            “Oh Harry dear, there you are. Thank goodness. Did you get Lucius? Everything on this side is set,” Molly said, rushing through her sentences too quickly in her excitement. Eiona recognized Harry and went from contently leaning her head against Molly’s ample bosom to reaching out for Harry.

            “Here, let me take her. I haven’t seen her since last night,” Harry said, taking his baby. Eiona cooed in delight and grabbed onto his robes, but he didn’t care about the wrinkles. Draco had put a wrinkle-free charm on them, along with the stain resistant charms that were already imbibed in the fabric. “Yes, Lucius is in place. Arthur, Bill, and Kingsley are on him. Did you see Ron and Hermione?”

            “Yes. Ron went in to check on the house elves and ensure the catering is set. Hermione’s speaking with Druid Caomhánach, going over last minute details.”

            “Great. Do you know how Draco’s doing? How are things going on his side?”

            “Oh Draco just looked so happy and excited. This is the biggest day of his life and he was aiming to be ready for it. You wouldn’t believe the amount of primping and preening that was going on over there! I’m sure you’ll appreciate it come tonight, dear, but all the same, I rescued Eiona here from the midst of it.”

            “Thanks Molly. Are they going to be ready on time, do you think?” Harry asked around the fingers Eiona had shoved into his mouth.

            “Yes, right on time. Oh come here!” Molly cried, taking Harry and the baby into a hug. Eiona squealed happily and Harry hugged back.

            “Oi! There’s a baby present! Save the Weasleyness for a more appropriate time!” Pansy Parkinson called, approaching them as if to save the baby from them. She was dressed as Draco’s best-mate, in a short black dressed that showed a bit of cleavage. Harry thought it was nauseating, but that was mostly because it was Parkinson in it. He’d asked Draco why Pansy couldn’t just wear the same pantsuit as Hermione, but in black. Draco had said it was because Pansy was his best-mate and therefore needed a different dress than the other female groom’s mates. Hermione wasn’t Harry’s best-mate, because he’d chosen Ron for the honor.

            Harry and Molly pulled apart, Molly red and flustered and Harry with a curse only held back by the fact that his baby was in his arms.

            “What our dear Pansy is trying to say, is that Druid Caomhánach has _been_ ready and our dear Draco has finally finished his very _arduous_ and _time consuming_ dressing process,” Blaise said, coming up behind Pansy. He was also dressed in the black of one of Draco’s groom’s mates. His robes were the same cut and style as Ron’s, only with an inverse coloration.

            “Can I hold the baby or what?” Pansy asked.

            “No. If we’re ready to start, then she needs to get dressed,” Harry replied, clutching his daughter to his chest.

            “I’ve got the dress right here,” Molly said, holding up the bag with the dress.

            Hermione and Ron approached then, to report that everything was on schedule and that yes, these house elves had the option of being paid wages or being set free, if they so desired. None of them desired, but so long as they knew it was offered, that was the best they could do.

            Harry and Molly quickly changed the baby right there. Eiona already had on the correct shoes, socks, and undershirt to go with the poufy ivory colored dress, so all they had to do was slip the dress over her head. While they worked, Pansy and Blaise exchanged strained courtesies with Ron and Hermione. Then they were ready and Pansy and Blaise went back to their own camp on Draco’s side of the lawn.

            At sixth months old, Eiona was a gorgeous baby and looked stunning in the dress. She had a bit of baby chubbiness, but was on the slender side for her height. Her blond hair was five inches long. Like Harry, she had a cow-lick, but the texture was like Draco’s, meaning that it recovered from the cowlick and mostly flowed in the correct direction. Normally they put it into a ponytail on the top of her head, but for today she had a small French braid wrapped around the front, with the rest combed back. The cowlick was causing problems and stuck a few hairs up out of place. Harry put them back into place with a sticking charm; that was something he was good at now, because the cowlick drove Draco crazy and the spell only held for a few hours.

            Eiona’s nose was still buttoned shaped, but her eyes were greener now. There was a thin ring of blue on the outside, but they were mostly green. Her face was leaner, drawing attention to the perfect little Malfoy features. For the most part, she had Draco’s bone structure, but with Harry’s coloring. There were a few exceptions, like the lips and ears’ being Harry’s, the brow being Lily’s, the hair as golden as Cissy’s, and the eyebrows being Draco’s. She was the perfect mix of Draco and Harry, which was one of the things Harry loved about her.

            Dromeda approached with Teddy as Molly and Harry were working. Teddy was already dressed in his little black robes; since Eiona was in Harry’s color, Teddy was in Draco’s color. At fifteen months old, Teddy walked steadily on his feet. He wasn’t old enough to actually trust with the rings, but he bore the title of ring-bearer just the same. In fact, they were counting on him to make sure Eiona made it down the aisle. There was an entire bowl of the rice snack that Teddy loved set out for him to mark his spot. Cissy, Dromeda, and Molly had taken Teddy and Eiona out to practice the trip every day for the last two weeks and they thought they had Teddy pretty well trained to head for the snacks.

            With his side of the wedding party ready, they approached the seating area. Dromeda handed Teddy over to Hermione so that she and Molly could take their seats with the rest of the guests. The guests were all there and every one of the fifty chairs lined up on the lawn was filled. Cissy had taken the one free seat next to Lucius, with Arthur, Bill, and Kingsley in the other three seats surrounding the man. Cissy’s parents, Cygnus and Druella Black, were on her other side, followed by Grandmother Smith and so on.

            The music started, so Harry put Eiona into her magical walker, which would carry her and her basket of petals down the aisle. Hermione set Teddy behind the walker and he grabbed onto the seat, as practiced. Eiona wasn’t old enough to do her job properly, since she couldn’t walk yet. The plan was for Teddy to guide her and the walker to the snacks, while she threw the petals. The last thing Harry did before letting them off on cue was to place his daughter’s hand in the basket of flowers. She was supposed to throw them, but all she did was eat a few of them and slobber on the rest. She was teething, so the drool ran down her chin, leaking onto her dress. The guests all cooed and awed as Teddy did his part and the adorable pair made it to the snacks. Teddy was a friendly baby and he was nice enough to deposit a toddler sized handful of snacks onto Eiona’s tray to share. She squealed and picked one up, munching happily.

            After the babies went, Millicent Bulstrode entered from the left as the first of Draco’s groom’s mates. She was wearing the pantsuit Parkinson should’ve wore; the black version of Hermione’s outfit. Hermione went next, entering from the right as the first of Harry’s mates. Then it was Blaise Zabini’s turn, followed by Ron, and finished up by Pansy Parkinson. Then it was Harry and Draco’s turn. Lucius was there, so they could’ve had Draco’s father walk him down the aisle if they’d wanted too, but they didn’t. Draco didn’t want to be the bride any more than Harry did. They were to come in at the same time, from opposing sides of the lake, and meet under the arch.

            Harry started forward on cue, walking in front of their friends and family, with the castle and the lake in the background and the starry sky overhead. He could see where he was going, thanks to the conjured lights lining the aisles and illuminating the arch. Their groom’s mates were standing on either side of the arch, with Teddy and Eiona still munching happily on the snacks. The stars overhead weren’t overshadowed by the subtle lighting, thanks to an ancient charm of the sky.

            And then Harry could see Draco walking towards him, from the other side. Draco’s dress robes were black, trimmed with ivory and paired with an ivory vest with a textured filigree pattern in the same ivory. They were tailored to a T, fitting Draco’s body perfectly, and made from the type of fabric that cost so much money that Harry was afraid to sneeze in the vicinity. Draco looked stunning and took Harry’s breath away. They met under the arch, just behind the babies, Draco reaching out his hand for Harry’s.

            Druid Caomhánach stood behind them on a platform, beside the one oak tree on the lawn, ready to start. He had a thick gold chain around his neck and a crown of mistletoe around his head. He was dressed in white robes that billowed out as he spoke of love, marriage, and family and blathered on about peace, power, elements, seasons, and blood purity. The blood purity bit was greatly reduced from what it’d originally been, at Harry’s previous request.

            Druid Caomhánach wasn’t Harry’s choice of officiator, but he was passible. Harry didn’t particularly care for ministers, after Dumbledore’s funeral and the minister’s worthless eulogy and the minister at Bill and Fleur’s wedding wasn’t much better. Luckily Draco had a preference, so they’d gone with the Malfoy family’s usual druid. The Malfoys had converted to the ancient pureblood version of the Celtic religion upon immigrating to England over a thousand years ago. The snootiest of the purebloods all followed that religion, while the Weasleys followed the magical variant of the Church of England. Harry preferred the Church of England, but only because it was more familiar; he didn’t particularly care about religion and was therefore willing to go with Draco’s.

            Due to their ring bearer’s diminutive age, Blaise had the rings. There was a whole pre-ceremony process, Harry knew, of the druid blessing the rings, which was probably what Draco had been doing while Molly was watching the baby. Blaise handed the wand over to Draco now, his hand over the rings. Harry reached out and placed his hand over Draco’s and the druid led them through their vows. They were different from the muggle ones, but Harry didn’t stumble through them, thanks to a bit of practice. Harry took a ring and placed it onto Draco’s ring finger, Draco did the same in return to Harry, and then there was the kiss.

            Kissing Draco Malfoy, soon to be Potter, was hot, fiery, and passionate. Harry kissed back, slipping his tongue inside Draco’s mouth and dominating the kiss. There were woots, cheers, and clapping from the crowd; even a whiz-bang set off by George. Teddy joined in the ruckus, clapping his hands, but Eiona started crying from all the noise. Draco pulled away first, to retrieve their daughter. Teddy looked lost, suddenly by himself and lifted his arms, to indicate he wanted to be picked up too. Harry obliged and they finished the ceremony with the children in their arms. They stood there, a smiling, happy family, while their guests formed a line to greet them.

            Lucius, with Cissy on one arm and Kingsley on the other, was last up. Lucius and Cissy both hugged Draco and shook hands with Harry, while Kingsley shook hands with both of them.

            “Draco, we are so proud of you son, congratulations,” Lucius said. His speech was slurred slightly and Harry wondered who had given the man alcohol. Cissy probably gave it to him to help him get through the ceremony without objecting.

            “Thank you,” Draco replied, teary eyed.

            Harry thanked his in-laws as well and then it was time to move indoors for the reception. Ron dislodged Cissy by Lucius’ side for the journey. Cissy took Eiona from Draco, while Dromeda came forward to retrieve Teddy. Draco and Harry walked, arm and arm, across the lawn and over the drawbridge with their closest family and friends behind them.

            They entered a long, cavernous room with two long tables running down the middle. The tablecloths were black, the napkins and china ivory, and the utensils antique silver. There were single fancy ivory colored candles arranged two feet apart along the middle of each table, but no more. There were tapestries on the stone walls, but they were the standard ones that came with the room. Each seat had a little name card on it, aiding them in finding their pre-arranged seats. Harry and Draco were in the middle, of course, with their wedding party and Draco’s parents surrounding them. Harry’s guests, since they were of the lesser number, were at the main table, while Draco’s family had the other table to themselves.

            The elf-cooked meal was delicious. Harry fed Eiona a bit of the pumpkin soup, which was how he ended up with soup all over his ivory robes. The soup came clean off with a scouring charm, thanks to the stain-resistant fabric he’d chosen. He also got lamb sauce on the cuffs of his sleeves, but that was his own fault; it came away clean too. He was in pristine condition once more as the food was cleared away and the music started. The room was meant to seat four times as many guests as they had, so their tables only took up a fraction of the space; the other side was left open for dancing.  
            Harry was incredibly nervous and Draco took his hand for the first dance. It was an old pureblood waltz and Harry still wasn’t a great dancer. But Draco had started teaching him the steps months ago, not long after they got engaged, and they had practiced regularly. Harry would never be described as graceful on the dance floor, due to his two left feet, but he was proficient. He didn’t trip Draco up as his husband led him through the steps. Somehow the fact that it was his husband leading him in this dance made it magical and a warm fuzzy feeling settled in his stomach. That feeling was broken as soon as Cissy and Lucius stepped in.

            It was custom that the parents are the first to dance with the grooms. Since Harry’s parents were dead, that left Lucius to dance with Draco and Cissy took Harry. Harry tried to continue on with the dance, but his footsteps fumbled. Cissy, it seemed, was used to being led on the dance floor. It took her a minute to adjust to the leading role, once she realized Harry wasn’t up to the task. Lucius appeared absolutely plastered, if his footwork was anything to judge by, so he and Draco weren’t any better.

            “You look absolutely radiant tonight Harry. I’m glad you are my son-in-law now and I know you’ll make my Draco very happy,” Cissy said.

            Harry thanked the woman and looked over at his husband, just in time to see Lucius trip and fall. Draco caught his father, stopping the man from landing on his face, but their dance was over. Ron and Arthur stepped in, pulling Lucius off of the dance floor and back to his seat at the table and Cissy followed after, concerned. Draco’s grandmother, Druella Black, took Lucius’ place with Draco, while Hermione stepped in and took Harry’s hand, taking the lead.

            “I didn’t notice Lucius drinking anything and the alcohol hasn’t even been served yet,” Hermione commented as they waltzed around the room. They looked like a pair of toddlers next to the graceful Malfoys.

            “I didn’t either, but he was drunk already at the end of the ceremony. I figured Cissy gave it to him,” Harry replied, trying to keep in step with Hermione, but that was harder to do than with Draco.

            “Possibly. I guess after spending the last fifteen months locked up, he wanted to use his one last taste of freedom to get plastered.” Hermione was of the opinion that justice had to prevail and that meant Lucius spending the rest of his life in Azkaban. Harry had forbidden her from discussing said view within hearing range of Draco, not because he necessarily disagreed with her, but because it would upset Draco. Personally he was glad the decision wasn’t up to him, because he wanted both for Draco to be happy and for Lucius to be punished.

            After Hermione, it was Dromeda who stepped in to take Harry’s hand. “You look dashing tonight,” Dromeda complimented him, while leading.

            “Thank you. How many dances am I expected to do? Surely four is enough,” Harry replied.

            “You and Draco are expected to dance with all of your guests.”

            “Merlin, no. I’ll let Draco dance with them all, while I go sit down.”

            Dromeda steered them back towards the tables and Harry retook his seat. Lucius was a few seats away, being watched by Ron and Arthur now. Cissy was back on the dance floor, along with Kingsley, and Bill. Molly was sitting on the other side of Harry’s table with her granddaughter Victoire. Bill and Fleur’s first born was less than two months old, with strawberry blond peach fuzz on the top of her head. Bill and Fleur were taking a spin out on the dance floor.

            Harry considered joining Molly, to be away from Lucius, but then he decided that what he should be doing was to give his father-in-law a piece of his mind. Thankfully, Luna Lovegood saved him from making that mistake, by choosing that moment to plop down next to Harry. Somehow she’d gotten Teddy, who reached out for Harry, so she handed the toddler over.

            “It’s best to hold your tongue when it comes to in-laws, Harry,” Luna said sagely.

            “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Still, the nerve of him to be so plastered at his own son’s wedding!” Harry exclaimed. Luckily the music was loud, so it was unlikely that Lucius could hear him in the noisy room.

            “I don’t think he is drunk, Harry. The nargles told me that he’s sick. The wackspurts won’t even go near him.”

            Harry decided it was best to change the subject. He looked down at Teddy, who was squirming in his lap. “You were brilliant today, little man. Give me a high five.” He put his hand up and then used his other to guide the toddler’s hand to his. “Good job. You’re getting so big; I wish your mummy and daddy were here to see you.”

            “They can see him Harry,” Luna said.

            Neville came up then and whisked Luna away to dance with him, so Harry took Teddy and sat down next to Molly. Fleur joined them, having acquired Eiona. They did a bit of musical chairs, with Harry taking Eiona, Molly passing Victoire to Fleur, and Molly taking Teddy from Harry. The three adults talked about babies and weddings and watched the other party goers dance.

            Draco looked graceful on the dance floor, dancing with yet another of his many relatives. “Your father looks dashing, don’t you think?” Harry asked Eiona.

            Eiona replied with a happy sounding squeal and Teddy agreed.

            “You should cut back in Harry. I’m sure there are dozens of people who would like a chance at holding your little princess,” Molly said.

            “That’s the problem: I don’t exactly trust all of those pureblood witches,” Harry replied, holding Eiona tighter to his chest.

            “I’m sure she’d be safe; they wouldn’t hurt Draco’s child,” Molly reassured him and Fleur agreed.

            Harry resisted for a while, but when the last dance was called, he handed Eiona over to Cissy and shared one last dance with his husband. Then it was time for the cutting of the cake. It was a pumpkin cake covered in smooth ivory frosting and icing flowers. Harry had fun deliberately putting a bit of frosting on Draco’s nose and everyone laughed to see the usually pristine wizard messy for once. Harry kissed it off and then it was Draco’s turn.

            Draco leaned in with the plate in one hand and the fork in the other and said, “You know Harry, I should really get you back for that, but I’m not going to. I’m going to show you how to eat properly for once.” And then Draco expertly maneuvered the fork with the bite of cake into Harry’s mouth. It was sweet and rich and he licked his lips.

            They all moved back to their seats at the table for cake, champagne, and toasts. Ron’s speech was short and got a laugh in response to his obvious lack of eloquence. Blaise got up and said that he always knew they’d end up together, with the way they went after each other in school. Hermione’s speech was witty and eloquent, asserting that they were going to have a long and happy life together. Pansy said that at the very least Harry would have a better dressed life, with Draco for a husband, before she told a cute story of how she and a twelve year old Draco had used to sit and talk about their future weddings. Of course back then she thought that they’d be marrying each other, which got a laugh, and she finished off with wishing them the best. Millicent simply wished them well.

            Then they moved onto the toasts from their parents, with Arthur and Molly filling in for Harry’s parents. They each gave lovely speeches about how Harry had come into their lives a scraggly little boy and now he was a man with a beautiful new family. Then it was Cissy’s turn, who spoke of the struggles her son had had wooing a clueless Harry. Harry hadn’t even been aware of Draco’s attempted flirting before the failed first kiss, but Draco was nodding and laughing, so he supposed it must be true.

            Last it was Lucius’ turn to talk. Lucius seemed a bit wobbly standing up and Harry hoped Arthur and Ron hadn’t let the man have any more alcohol.

            “Congratulations Harry and Draco on a splendid marriage. I hope the two of you have a great many enjoyable years together. Your union has already produced one miracle, my wonderful granddaughter, and I wish you more equally perfect children. Children are the gift of life, each one a miracle that brightens our days. Draco, my son, you are the best thing your mother and I have ever done with our lives and you are the best son I could ever have wished for. I hope you and your new husband feel the same about your children when you are my age.”

            Up until this point, Lucius had been doing pretty well, only slurring a word here and there, but then he paused, reaching out to hold the table for support. Bill and Kingsley, who were guarding him now, rose up and caught Lucius just as he started to collapse, saving the man from winding up in his plate of cake. It was only another drunken stumble, because Lucius was recovering already, lowering himself back into his chair with the help of his guards.

            Cissy had screamed, along with several other women; the older family members appearing especially concerned. Cissy rushed over to Lucius’ side, dislodging Bill. She was yammering on about how Lucius was ill and needed to be taken to the emergency ward at St. Mungo’s. “We need to get you tested,” Cissy was saying.

            “It’s not that my dear; I’m fine, my leg just cramped up a bit. I haven’t exactly been exercising in my cell,” Lucius reassured his wife, his hand wrapped around the back of her head and his thumb caressing her cheek.

            “Are you sure?” Cissy asked and Lucius nodded.

            “He’s not sick, Cissy, he’s drunk,” Harry said.

            At the statement, all eyes turned from Lucius to Harry. Many people were nodding their heads, agreeing, while several of Draco’s relatives looked outraged by the statement.

            “Harry, Lucius hasn’t been drinking,” Arthur pointed out. “Everyone else had champagne, but Lucius and the children had sparkling apple juice.”

            “What? No, he’s been wasted since the ceremony,” Harry replied.

            “Harry, the elves didn’t even serve alcohol until we cut the cake,” Draco said softly. He didn’t seem mad at Harry, but stunned by the peculiar circumstances.

            “But your mother was sitting with him; Cissy must’ve given it to him,” Harry insisted.

            “Harry, I didn’t give him anything. We need to get him to hospital,” Cissy replied.

            “Lucius Malfoy, did you violate the terms of your release and consume an alcoholic beverage?” Kingsley asked sternly.

            “No, it’s nothing. It’s just my bad leg acting up again,” Lucius answered, again slurring.

            “He should have a cane. Even if he can’t have _his_ cane, he needs a non-magical one,” Cissy said. Lucius’ cane had a number of ancient shield charms cast on it, being handed down from Malfoy to Malfoy for almost a thousand years, so it was one of a number of items he was not to be allowed.

            Draco, Lucius, and a large number of guests on the Malfoy side all agreed with that statement.

            “If you’re not drunk Lucius, why are you talking like you are?” Harry asked.

            “There’s something wrong with my tongue. It’s been bothering me off and on for a while now,” Lucius replied, not sounding particularly sober.

            “Yeah right,” Harry replied.

            “Harry, I think Lucius should be checked out at St. Mungo’s. They can do a test for alcohol,” Hermione said.

            “No need, any Auror can do it,” Ron said, before casting the spell.

            Lucius’ blood alcohol level was zero. Half the crowd gasped in surprise, while the other half insisted that Lucius needed to be seen by a healer.

            “I think we better take him to St. Mungo’s and have him checked out,” Kingsley said.

            Kingsley was the boss, so he got his way. Harry was responsible for Lucius at the moment, so he had to go with them. Lucius was Draco’s father, so Draco was very concerned and insisted on going too. Cissy couldn’t be kept away if they tried. Ron, Bill, and Arthur had all agreed to help watch Lucius, so they went as well. Some of the guests stayed and went back to partying, but for the most part, the wedding was over. Molly and Dromeda took charge of the children and Hermione took charge of kicking the stragglers out.

            Once at the hospital, a few initial scans revealed that there was something seriously wrong with Lucius. They didn’t yet know what, but it was enough to admit him for further tests. Harry kept thinking that Lucius must’ve done something to make himself ill to get out of his upcoming trial, but he didn’t know what. What he did know was that his wedding night was shot and Draco was too concerned about his father to have sex. Harry was disappointed, because he’d really been looking forward to the night. Draco was a bloody brilliant fuck. It just wasn’t fair that Harry had to spend his wedding night in St. Mungo’s with Draco worrying about Lucius, instead of in bed where they belonged.

* * *

* * *

Author’s Note: Whew! I’ve finally gotten the sequel started! What did you think of the wedding? Of Lucius? He’ll be the focus of the next few chapters as they figure out what’s wrong with him. After Lucius is settled, the quarrels between Harry and Draco should start, so if you can think of anything trivial for them to argue about, let me know.

Please Review!


	2. Chapter2

Lucius is 46

Z

 

            Draco insisted on staying the night with Lucius and Cissy in hospital. Cissy slept on the couch in Lucius’ room, while two Aurors stood guard at all times. Draco wanted to camp out in the waiting room for family members, but one of the perks of being married to the Savior was special treatment; there was a free room right next to Lucius’ and the nurse let Harry and Draco sleep there. Although, they didn’t do much sleeping, because Draco stayed up worrying.

            It was their wedding night and they had arranged for Cissy to watch the baby for the night, but Molly stepped in and took the baby in Cissy’s place. The nappy bag was already packed with plenty of breast milk. Draco was a bit neurotic and over protective when it came to Eiona; he worried that something would happen to spill or spoil the first batch of milk, so he sent double and even had a few jaws of elf-made baby food. So Molly had more than enough milk and food for the baby to last an entire day.

            When Saturday morning came around, it began to seem like Molly really would need to watch Eiona for an entire day. The nurses and healers were in and out of Lucius’ room constantly running tests. They ran so many tests it was unbelievable. Of course they started with testing for less sever conditions and non-fatal ailments. There were a lot of them and they all had to be ruled out. Then they moved onto testing for fatal things, which were also numerous. On top of all of those tests, the healer refused to tell them what was going on until she was certain of the diagnosis.

            Harry first got an inkling of what was wrong with his father-in-law Saturday night. Harry wanted to pick up Eiona and go home, since there was nothing they could do for Lucius right now, but Draco refused to leave, again. Instead Draco was using a spell to pump his breast milk into bottles to send to Molly’s, which was something he had to do for every feeding he missed with their daughter.

            “Draco, why can’t we go home for the night and come back in the morning? You heard what the healers said: Lucius is stable, which means he’s not going to die in the night, and they aren’t ready to confirm a diagnosis. They won’t meet with us again until tomorrow morning. Your mum and two Aurors are here watching him. Your mum can comfort him and the Aurors will protect him. There is absolutely nothing that can possibly go wrong while we’re gone,” Harry said, pleading with his husband.

            “There’s nothing that can happen, is there?” Draco asked sarcastically.

            “No, there’s not a thing that can go wrong.”

            “And what if my father commits suicide tonight?”

            “What? Why would he do that?”

            “His grandfather did. My great grandfather, Septimus Malfoy the second, left St. Mungo’s and slashed open his neck. He bled out in seconds.”

            “Oh, I didn’t know,” Harry said, taking Draco into his arms comfortingly. “Why would he do such a thing?”

            “He watched his father Lucian Malfoy dying a slow painful death, kept alive for decades with magic. Great Great Grandfather Lucian suffocated to death before I was born, but it was still a decade after his son killed himself. Septimus the second had the same horribly fatal disease as his father and couldn’t bear to go through it. It was enough that his son, my grandfather Abraxas Malfoy was being left to raise my father and care for his grandfather; he didn’t want his son to have to care for him too. I’m sure my father has the same thing.”

            “And what is that? What’s wrong with him?”

            “Motor neurone disease; he’s of the age...” Draco revealed.

            Harry gasped and hugged Draco tighter. “Isn’t that fatal?”

            “Yes, didn’t I just say my great great grandfather died from it?”

            “Yeah, but I mean like _really_ fatal. People with that don’t last very long.”

            “Maybe in the muggle world, but we have magical treatments for it.”

            “Good; then there’s something that can be done for your father.”

            “The treatments only prolong life and increase the quality of life; they aren’t a cure. Meanwhile my father’s a prisoner and thinks he’s a useless costly drain on our family. He might try to kill himself at any moment, to spare us.”

            “He wouldn’t do that. He knows you need him.”

            “As long as he thinks that I am better off without him, he might. There’s a long family history of Malfoys with motor neurone disease, all the way back to the family founder, Armand Malfoy. That’s why the title Lord Malfoy always comes with a cane. My great grandfather wasn’t the only one to commit suicide.”

            “I’m so sorry Draco,” Harry said, placing a gentle kiss to Draco’s forehead. “How about I take this milk to Molly and check on Eiona. Then I’ll come back here.”

            Draco gave a curt nod and replied, “Take more nappies and clothes.”

            It wasn’t possible for one baby to go through all of the clothes and nappies Draco packed, but Harry agreed just the same. He stopped by Grimmauld Place, before apparating to the Burrow. Molly and Arthur were there in the living room, Eiona cradled in Molly’s arms, fast asleep; Molly hadn’t wanted to put her down.

            “Oh Harry dear! There you are; we were so worried. How’s Lucius?” Molly asked.

            “They’re still doing tests, but Draco thinks it motor neurone disease, which is fatal. It runs in the Malfoy family,” Harry replied.

            “Oh Harry!” Molly exclaimed.

            Arthur rose from the chair, placing a comforting hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Medicine has made a lot of progress in the last few decades; Lucius will have many years left and you don’t even know for sure that that is what it is. It could be something less fatal,” he said.

            “They already ruled out all of the curable things,” Harry said.

            Arthur took Harry into a hug and said, “Son, it’s going to be okay. You and Draco are going to get through this,” before pulling back again.

            “Thank you. I’m just so worried, because what if Draco has it? What if he gave it to Eiona?”

            “They won’t. They’re fine, see,” Molly said, standing up and passing a still sleeping Eiona to Harry.

            It was comforting for Harry to hold Eiona again. She wasn’t going to disappear because of Lucius’ tainted blood. _Talk about impure blood_. That thought brought a smile to Harry’s face and allowed him to hold back his tears. “How was she Molly? Was she alright without us?”

            “She was fine. Hermione, Fleur, Andy, and Teddy all stopped by. She was so busy going from person to person and crawling after Teddy that she didn’t even have time to miss you. Well she did miss Draco when I was putting her down to sleep and when I was feeding her; she was calling for him. It was so cute the way she says fa’er,” Molly answered.

            “Yeah, that is adorable,” Harry agreed.

            “Yes, she is,” Molly agreed.

            “You have a wonderful little family there Harry,” Arthur said. “How is Draco doing?”

            And so Harry relayed his earlier conversation with Draco about worrying that Lucius was going to commit suicide.

            “Eventually Draco will have to leave the hospital and get on with life, but in the meantime you need to tell the Aurors that they need to be watching out for that. They’re on alert for Lucius to attempt to escape or for on an attack from the outside by someone wanting revenge; they don’t know to watch for a suicide attempt,” Arthur said.

            That was good advice and Harry resolved to take it as soon as he got back to St. Mungo’s. He spent a bit more time with Eiona first, before going back home to shower and change. He retrieved toiletries and a change of clothes for Draco while he was at it, which Draco was very appreciative of when he got back to the hospital. Harry put the Aurors on suicide alert and he and Draco slept in the spare room again that night. They didn’t get any news on Lucius until just before noon the next day.

            “My tests confirm motor neurone disease,” Healer Johnson informed them. He was a tall black man dressed in white healer robes and had an air of competency about him.

            Cissy was there standing by Lucius’ shoulder and at the proclamation, she turned and buried her face into Lucius’ shoulder. Her sobs echoed off of the hospital walls.

            Draco too turned to his spouse for support, clutching Harry tightly.

            Harry held Draco as it was confirmed that Lucius hadn’t been faking just to get his trial postponed. In all likelihood, Lucius had been hiding his symptoms from his family, so that they wouldn’t worry about him. But now that Lucius was dying, it was possible that there would never even be a trial; the Ministry might not waste the money to put a dying man through the ordeal. Lucius might be allowed to live the rest of his numbered days in his hospital room in St. Mungo’s, with his guards of course; Lucius still wouldn’t be freed without a trial, no matter how sick he was.

            “Now motor neurone disease isn’t the death sentence it used to be. There is a lot of progress in the field. The treatment is still too new to know if the patient is permanently cured, but it has at least been sent into long term remission with several patients,” Healer Johnson said.

            “How?” Draco asked desperately clinging to the lifeline.

            “By treatment with magical parasitic worms. It sounds improbable, but the particular form of motor neurone disease that is prevalent in purebloods has an auto-immune component. That means that the patient’s own immune system attacks his neurons, speeding up the progression of the disease and sometimes triggering it in the first place. A few decades ago it was found that some purebloods had a parent and a child afflicted with auto-immune diseases, but were uninfected themselves.”

            “Like my father,” Lucius interrupted.

            “Yes, like,” the healer flipped through the pages in his notes, “Abraxas Malfoy, who still hadn’t contracted the disease when he died of Dragon Pox. It says here that he made invisibility cloaks, is that right?”

            “Yes,” Lucius confirmed. “The best in the wizarding world.”

            “He grew the ingredients for his potions himself, didn’t he?” Healer Johnson asked.

            “Yes,” Lucius confirmed. “What does that have to do with it? He had to, in order to obtain the best quality.”

            “One ingredient in one of the potions needed to make invisibility cloaks is Flitterbloom roots. A link was found between witches and wizards and Flitterbloom. Those who keep it as a houseplant are only mildly protected from motor neurone disease, but those who harvest the roots almost never contract the disease; they contract the parasitic Flitterbloom nematode instead. The Flitterbloom nematode is a magical species of parasitic roundworms whose life cycle involves infecting Flitterbloom roots and humans. It’s rather fascinating really and Flitterbloom nematode infection actually protects again auto-immune diseases. There have only been a handful of witches and wizards with motor neurone disease which have tried the nematode treatment, but in every case so far it has sent the disease into remission.”

            “Why would parasitic worms cure auto-immune diseases?” Draco asked.

            “It has to do with what goes wrong in the body to cause auto-immune responses in the first place. Parasites are the key: the immune system expects to find parasitic Eukaryotes. It searches for them and if it cannot find them, it finds the next closest thing, which is the human body, and attacks. If you introduce the parasites, the immune system recalibrates itself and stops attacking the body. And the neat thing is that after the parasite infection is eliminated, the immune system retains the knowledge and continues to function normally. At least so long as it has been tested; like I said, this is a new treatment and we simply do not have case studies dating back more than a decade.”

            “Another decade with my family sounds amazing to me,” Lucius said, his hand clasped comfortingly over Cissy’s.

            The treatment was not without risk, because they would be introducing a live and active parasite into an already ill wizard’s body. The alternative was declining motor neuronal use until the muscles of the diaphragm gave out and suffocation followed. Lucius was adamant about which he preferred, so Healer Johnson went ahead with the treatment. It was an intensive six month course and absolutely forbade stressful events, such as trials, for the durations as well as the first six months afterwards. Even then a trial was not recommended and it was unknown what the stress would do to the remission, so Lucius’ trial was postponed indefinitely.

            Harry thought the Malfoys would’ve been happy with the trial postponement, but they weren’t. All three of them were so convinced that they had enough evidence in Lucius’ favor that he would be found not-guilty or be released on time-served. Harry didn’t think it was nearly that cut-and-dry and hoped he never had to see Draco’s heart broken by Lucius’ conviction.

            With the promise of a cure for Lucius, he was most assuredly not suicidal and promised his son as much. Draco went straight to Eiona, kissing his baby and telling her the good news, even though she was too little to understand. Harry went with Draco and thanked the Weasleys for watching her. Molly assured them that it was no problem at all and that Eiona was welcome back anytime.

            They went home, doting on their princess to make up for the time they were away. But then that night when Eiona went to sleep, Draco jumped on Harry. They made love, finally consummating their marriage. It was much needed stress relief after spending two days in hospital, but it was also a slow and sensual expression of their love for each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will come the cure! Lucius illness is meant to be part of the backdrop for the main story, not the main story itself, so we’ll jump ahead to when he’s better :)  
> Please Review!


	3. Chapter3

             Lucius got worse before he got better. He completely lost the use of both arms and was confined to his hospital bed for most of the day. When he wasn’t in bed, he was strapped into his wheelchair, with thick black bands holding his limbs, torso, and even his head in place. The contraption seemed like over kill, but it was necessary to counteract the random flailing and muscle spasms he suffered from. It seemed that his entire body was affected, including his tongue, making his speech garbled and swallowing difficult.

            Healer Johnson said that a little progression of the disease was normal and would’ve happened even if they’d done nothing. An increase of that progression was to be expected with the addition of the active parasitic infection. The body couldn’t be expected to heal itself while it was combating a major secondary illness. Furthermore, the infection triggers a serious immune response, which was part of the problem in the first place, and was expected to send progression of the disease into hyper-drive; that is what they wanted to happen.

            Four months in, when Lucius lost all control of his bowls and bladder and was being fed through a tube down his throat, Healer Johnson admitted that his patient was having a more exaggerated response than what was typical. They had only tested the treatment on a handful of patients with Lucius’ particular disease. It was possible for the parasitic infection to behave differently in different people. Perhaps the innate magic of the previous patients had shielded them from the worst of it or they’d had some other trait that had protected them. Lucius had magic too, but his wasn’t active in fighting off the infection or the genetic disease.

            The parasite should’ve been dying off by now. Lucius had been given the anti-parasitic potion and his immune system ought to be recognizing the infection and clearing it away. There were signs that his immune system was actively doing something, but the infection wasn’t dying down the way it should and parasites isolated from his system were still live and infectious, when they shouldn’t be. Not even repeated doses of the standard parasite treatment potion seemed to have an effect. It was almost as if the parasites had developed a resistance to the medication.

            Healer Peddell was brought in, working under the hypothesis that Lucius’ mental state was affecting his ability to fight off the progression of the disease. She was a mind healer, who diagnosed Lucius as depressed. It was hard to believe that a Death Eater critically infected with a parasite and who happens to have a life-threatening genetic disease like Motor Neurone Disease wouldn’t be depressed. None of these things could be changed, but Healer Peddell set out to change Lucius’ outlook on it all, in the hopes that the placebo effect would do wonders.

            Cissy Malfoy wasn’t the type to take her husband’s infirmary lying down. When she heard the potion wasn’t curing the parasitic infection, she set out to find a potion master who would find an alternative cure. It was unusual for someone to have such a life-threatening case of that particular parasite, so there was only the one potion in common use as treatment. Potion Master Claxton tested a number of other anti-parasitic potions for activity against Lucius’ parasite, but had little success. Then he went to the archives, pulling out recipes of old or antiquated treatments for diseases that were no longer an issue.

            In one very dusty and very old leather tome on pages that were so deteriorated that each one had to be preserved before it could be read, Master Claxton found the description of a rare type of magical parasite afflicting Flitterbloom roots. It was related to the parasite Lucius was supposed to have been given and almost indistinguishable, except for the fact that the common cure had little to no effect on the rarer species. A potion had been developed to cure the infection caused by the rarer parasite and recorded in the tome, where it was then forgotten about as no one had contracted the disease for hundreds of years. Or at least no adult had, because the infection was asymptomatic in children and always dealt with effectively by the immune system.

            Master Claxton found the only remaining record of the cure and was then set with the challenge of recreating it. The English language had changed so much from those times that it was like translating a recipe from a foreign language. Then there was the fact that the ingredients came from living species, which had evolved in the intervening years. Lacewing flies were less potent now, so more had to be added. Dragonfly venom was more potent, so less of that was needed. Worst of all, hazelnut-wheat had been banned and destroyed, due to the wide-spread allergic reactions it’d caused in house elves. The archaic variety of wheat had to be grown from preserved seed and harvested before the potion could be made. And all of it Master Claxton had to do on his own or with the help of the Malfoy family, because there was no one else willing to waste his time to save a Death Eater like Lucius Malfoy.

            Eventually Claxton succeeded, Lucius was cured of the parasitic infected, Healer Johnson begrudgingly admitted to having given the wizard the wrong parasite, and Healer Peddell falsely took credit for Lucius’ recovery.

            In other news, Cissy Malfoy was not charged with punching Peddell in the nose, because her threat to sue Peddell for taking credit for Claxton’s work was enough to cause Peddell to drop the charges. Cissy agreed not to file her suit, as long as Peddell went away and never took credit for the potion master’s work again. Cissy, for her part, was entirely disillusioned with the whole system, having discovered that if she wanted her family saved, she would have to do it herself.

            As soon as the parasite left Lucius’ system, his body began to heal, and his symptoms began to disappear. He stopped twitching so much and regained the ability to swallow first. Then the adult nappies and catheter were removed. He regained full control of both arms and his speech improved, to the point where those closest to him could understand him again. By the one year mark, he showed remarkable signs of improvement with every indication that he would continue to get better.

            After a very emotionally trying first year of marriage, Harry was really looking forward to his anniversary. One year ago today he and Draco had stood before the ancient castle, surrounded by their friends and family, and promised to love each other forever. That day was marred by Lucius’ collapse, but he was recovering now and it was time to celebrate. They had made it through the darkness to the light at the end of the tunnel. From now on, they were going to have their happily ever after; Harry was sure of it.

            The best part about the anniversary of a marriage, in Harry’s opinion, was that he was guaranteed to get sex. Draco was a willing enough participant most of the time, but the fact that they had a child to think about got in the way. Draco was always busy, volunteering to watch Teddy, taking care of Eiona, or visiting his father in hospital. There was never time for a night, or even a few hours, of love making. It was always a spur of the moment thing when Eiona was down for a nap or Cissy had taken the child out for a walk. Draco would corner Harry, announce the amount of time they had and declare his sexual need. The passion would ensue, only to be cut short be their time constraints.

            Tonight was going to be different. Eiona was having a sleep over with Teddy at Dromeda’s house. Cissy was unavailable for the night, because it was also the anniversary of Lucius’ diagnosis with a fatal disease and she wanted to be with her husband. But Dromeda was just as capable of watching a child and more than willing. Molly had even put in an offer to stop by Dromeda’s to give a hand. So their daughter would be perfectly fine without her parents, freeing Harry and Draco up to make love all night.

            Harry woke up that morning to Eiona climbing into bed with him and sitting on his stomach. He tried to remain asleep, wanting just a few more minutes, but she stuck her fingers in his nose. He sat up, pulling the tiny appendages out of his nostrils and said, “Eiona, it’s not nice to stick your fingers in Daddy’s nose.”

            “Daddy!” Eiona exclaimed happily.

            “Alright Princess, what do you want? How did you get free?”

            Eiona slept in a crib in the next room, so she couldn’t have gotten loose unless Draco had let her go.

            “Fa-er ‘aye Daddy a ‘appee!” The eighteen month old’s speech was difficult to understand at the best of times. Harry had adapted by using his Auror training. He pretended it was the code of a dark wizard he was tracking. The base of the code was English, only most of the consonants had been removed, leaving the vowels. The occasional consonant was the rare clue needed to decode the message.

            “Father sent you,” Harry surmised.

            Eiona clapped her hands together, but it didn’t make much of a sound, because she held a handmade card. Harry pulled it away from her and smoothed out the parchment. The letters spelled out, “Happy First Anniversary!” in Draco’s long graceful script, but were covered over with the crayon scribbles of a toddler. Harry opened the card up to reveal a finger painting done with tiny fingers and Eiona’s and Teddy’s hand prints in the middle. Draco had spelled out their full names and the dates underneath.

            “Thank you Princess. This was so nice of you and Teddy to make me,” Harry told her, placing a kiss to her blond head.

            Normally Harry would’ve continued to play with his daughter on the bed, but a loud noise from the other side of the room stopped him. He looked up to see his broom clanging on the floor and Teddy climbing over it. He moved Eiona to the ground and sprang up just as his godson began to rise in midair on the broom, backwards. He dashed across the room and retrieved the two year old, letting the broom fall to the floor.

            “Teddy, what are you doing?” Harry asked.

            “Day-o say Eddy p’ay wi’ Har-ee!” Teddy explained.

            “Draco told you to play with me, did he?” Harry asked.

            “Yeah,” Teddy answered, nodding his head.

            “It’s not safe to play with Harry’s broom by yourself Teddy. You have to get Harry first,” Harry scolded, going back to his bed to retrieve Eiona. “That goes for you too Princess: no touching Daddy’s broom.”

            “Ay!” Eiona replied.

            “Come on, let’s find out what your father is up to.” Harry grabbed his wand, did a bit of cleanup, since Kreacher was getting too old to do it all, put on his slippers, and went down the hall, a pair of toddlers at his heals.

            Harry found Draco in the nursery, putting together a nappy bag for Eiona. He’d shrunk everything down, but still it wouldn’t all fit; it looked like he was trying to pack the entire nursery.

            Eiona and Teddy dived into an open drawer, pulling out freshly laundered clothing and tossing it up in the air.

            “You know Draco, it’s only one day,” Harry said.

            “And one night! What if she misses us?”

            “Having a hundred stuffed bunnies isn’t going to change whether or not she misses us.”

            “Her stuffed bunny! Where is it? Did I already pack it?” Draco was frantically digging through the nappy bag, looking for the beloved bunny, oblivious to the mess the children were making a few feet away.

            “Draco,” Harry said, grabbing Draco’s hand and pulling it out of the nappy bag. He waited until Draco made eye contact before continuing. “Ipheion will be fine. Your aunt knows all about how to take care of babies and Molly will be there to help.”

            Draco nodded and let Harry envelope him in a hug. Then Harry helped Draco remove ninety percent of the superfluous items from the nappy bag, before gathering up the children and going downstairs. Dromeda was in the parlor, conversing with the portrait of Sirius’ parents. She had a twin pram, which Harry and Draco placed Teddy and Eiona into for her. Dromeda assured them that she’d be fine, but Draco prattled on in his worried state for several minutes more.

            Finally Dromeda looked at her watch, proclaimed she had to get going if they were to make some kiddy show at the library, and hurried through the door. Draco looked after her in a daze, looking forlorn over the loss of the children. Harry, on the other hand, was very pleased by the development. Harry picked Draco up and carried his husband back to bed. Harry fucked Draco until he forgot all about how their little girl was doing without them, until he was screaming Harry’s name and begging for more.

            After the morning round of sex there was breakfast in bed, courtesy of Kreacher. Harry thought the ailing elf had added too much salt, but Draco gobbled it down like he hadn’t eaten in days. After he ate, Harry freshened up in the bathroom, before returning to the bed for another round. Draco was getting up to use the loo himself, but Harry pushed him back down with a feral grin plastered on his face.

            “Harry!” Draco protested, in between kisses from Harry. “We can’t.”

            “We can. We have to. We have all day and nothing else _to_ do, Draco.”

            “I have to pee,” Draco protested.

            Harry let Draco up, but followed his husband to the loo. He stood there even when Draco shut the door on him. “Hurry up, because as soon as you’re done, your arse has an appointment with my cock.”

            “Harry, we have to get ready! We’re already running late,” Draco protested from the other side of the door.

            “Running late for what? This is our anniversary. We agreed that the entire day would be just you and me, no children.”

            “Yes, but I signed us up for couples Quidditch at the castle, remember?”

            “No…”

            Draco was always talking and saying things when Harry was trying to snog and seduce him. Was it Harry’s fault if Draco was always on the non-sex track when he ought to be thinking about Harry’s cock in his arse?

            “You said it would be nice. You like Quidditch, it’s on the same lawn where we got married, and I already paid. Remember? You said you would go as long as you could fuck me in one of the rooms of the castle? You told me to book a room and I did. It’s all paid for.”

            Now that he thought about it, Harry did remember a fantasy he’d had of buggering Draco in a castle after a Quidditch match. That was all that had seeped in of that conversation, but it seemed that letting his dick be in charge of his brain had worked out in his favor. “Yeah, alright, I’ll go dress,” he called.

            Harry pulled out his old Quidditch gear. His old uniform no longer fit, but he had other clothes that would do. Draco finally emerged from the loo and dressed too. Harry’s broom was out, but Draco’s was nowhere in sight, so Harry went in search of it, looking in various closets. “Draco, have you seen your broom?” he asked.

            “We don’t need my broom; it’s a couples match.”

            “What’s that mean?”

            “It means we ride the same broom and are both seeker.”

            “In that case, forget the pants and I’ll bugger you on the broom.” Harry had abandoned the closet and was pressing his body up against Draco’s now, interfering with Draco’s attempt to pull his trousers up.

            “Don’t you dare.”

            Harry kissed and sucked at the back of Draco’s neck. “How about one quickie before we go then?”

            Draco spun around and shot Harry with an ice-water in the pants curse he’d picked up. He was so fast and Harry’s head so muddled with sex, that Harry was powerless to dodge it and felt the full brunt of the cold water on his heated parts.

            “Was that quick enough for you?” Draco asked with a smirk.

            “Urgh! Draco, now I’m all wet,” Harry complained, pulling his wand out. He cast a drying charm on himself and smoothed out his robes.

            Draco went back to dressing. They were soon ready, grabbed Harry’s new broom, and were off. They were late, with their team already huddled up discussing their game plans for the day. But there was never much game plan for a seeker, so there was no harm done. The morning fuck on the other hand, left Draco unable to sit a broom properly, handicapping their pair. The rules clearly stated that there had to be two people on each broom in couples Quidditch, so they had to make do or forfeit.

            They were late, so they tried a cushioning charm on Draco’s arse and took off in the air. But he kept wiggling in the most enticing way, so that didn’t work. There was no sign of the snitch, so they choose to land in order to regroup. Then they tried a few different positions, but they were unbalanced, which either prevented the broom from flying straight or led to Draco slipping off one side or the other. Finally they settled on a position that worked where they were face to face with Draco balanced on a hovering charm, so that his sore bum didn’t actually touch the hard rod, and his arms wrapped around Harry to hold on.

            Draco hindered their team when it came to steering, but was an asset nonetheless, due to his keen eyesight. Draco spotted the snitch and directed Harry to it. Harry caught it and their team won the game. It was a silly, goofy way to play, but it turned out to be a lot of fun. It would’ve been more fun if Harry had been able to keep his hands off of Draco that morning, but it was their anniversary and they’d never truly had a chance to be newlyweds.

            After the game of Quidditch, they checked into the hotel in the castle and had another go. Then they had lunch in a posh restaurant on the ground floor. Draco ordered the chicken, but sent it back, because it tasted funny and had the vegetarian pasta instead. After that they took a tour of the small museum, before retiring to their room for the night. It wasn’t all that late, but Draco was exhausted and fell asleep with Harry’s cock still in his arse. Harry ordered room service and ate alone, waking Draco up only for another round in the sheets.

            Harry was very satisfied with the amount of sex they had that night. His only complaint, if he had one, was that Draco seemed to be fucked senseless. His husband was utterly useless in the morning, moving at a snail’s pace whenever he asked Draco to do anything. When he didn’t ask, Draco sat there staring off into space, massaging his left nipple where Harry had pinched too hard, applying anal soothing potion to his rear, or examining the room service menu. Harry didn’t mind too much, since it was a direct consequence of all that brilliant sex.

            “Alright, what do you want to order?” Harry asked, when he caught Draco staring at the menu for the tenth time. Kreacher would have breakfast ready for them when they got home, so Harry had been planning on waiting to eat. He had been trying to locate all of their possessions, but couldn’t seem to track down their Quidditch pads. But Draco hadn’t finished his lunch the day before, hadn’t eaten dinner at all, and had engaged in lots of physical activity, so it wouldn’t hurt to let Draco eat something now.

            “Huh?” Draco asked confused.

            “What do you want to eat?” Harry asked again.

            “For food?” Draco asked.

            “Yes, for food. I must’ve fucked your brains out last night, huh?”

            “Uh…” Draco actually seemed legitimately confused by that one.

            “Your usual then? Oatmeal and fruit? Or do you want to splurge and go with the eggs and bacon?”

            Draco’s brow furrowed in thought and he very slowly said, “Oatmeal.”

            Harry ordered Draco’s breakfast and finished packing just as Draco’s food arrived. Then he discovered that he smelled like sex and decided to shower; he couldn’t pick up their daughter smelling like arse and jizz. He was dressed and ready to go when he noticed that Draco wasn’t at all presentable and still smelled like sperm. It was highly unusual for the prissy pathologically clean wizard, but Draco hadn’t gotten all that much sleep between the bouts of passionate love-making. Plus Eiona had been up cutting a tooth the night before, so maybe Draco was sleep deprived. Harry decided to cut Draco some slack, cast a few cleaning charms, and directed Draco into appropriate attire.

            Draco continued to act spacey when they got home, but it was the weekend and Harry had the day off, so he took over. He directed Draco to the bath to soak and then to bed. Draco slept all day and woke up acting like his normal self, proving that Harry was right about the sleep-deprivation. Maybe next year they’d spend a bit more of the night sleeping…Then again, Harry didn’t mind taking care of Draco for the day and buggering him all night had its appeal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I delayed posting this in hopes that the formatting glitch on this site would be resolved. It looks like the formatting is alright this time around, so hopefully it stays that way.


	4. Chapter4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some unknown reason, there is always a functional story editor for this story, but not my others...enjoy the proper formatting.

            It was a Tuesday evening a month later when Harry came home to a filthy house, a crying baby, and a hysterical Draco. The house being filthy was a typical occurrence these days. Walburga had declared that it was time to cut off their elf’s head, because he was too old to keep the house tidy. Harry didn’t think it was all Kreacher’s fault, because Draco was a bloody slob and Eiona was a messy toddler; it wasn’t fair to ask the aging Kreacher to keep up. Kreacher was trying and that was what was important. You don’t just get rid of a family member because he was old and Kreacher was part of the family.

            Harry traipsed his way up the stairs, past summer coats, shoes, and hats that Draco had left strewn on the stairs and up to the drawing room. There were toys scattered over the floor along with the remains of a ravaged looking first aid kid. The small tea table was still set for an afternoon tea that was long since over. There were crumb filled plates with half-eaten scones and tea cups with the dregs still in them left along with a tea kettle that had long since gone cold. Harry should’ve expected as much, given that Eiona and Draco had had a playdate today with Victoire and Fleur. Somehow, though, he still managed to be disappointed by the mess.

            Draco was sitting on the floor, caging Eiona in with his legs and one arm, while trying to apply a plaster with his free hand and holding his wand in his teeth. Eiona was screaming in a wild tantrum that was more typical of the two year old Teddy than their little princess. Draco’s face was red with tear streaks running down it.

            “What happened?” Harry yelled the question, so as to be heard above the din.

            “That awful veela and her rabid veela spawn!” Draco yelled back, a sob of desperation on his breath.

            That didn’t answer the question, so Harry asked again. “What did they do?”

            “Bit my precious Ipheion! Can you believe? Like a rabid pixie, just put Eiona’s finger in her mouth and chomped down!”

            “Here, let me see it,” Harry requested, stepping closer. Draco held out the digit he’d been trying to cover with the plaster for Harry to see. Harry took it, while Draco flung the ruined plaster to the floor to join the mounting pile of discarded plasters. “There’s nothing there.” The finger was a bit red, but that could just be from Draco’s attack with the plasters. There was no break in the skin or bite mark.

            “Well there was! I could see teeth marks and everything! But that was hours ago now.”

            “And Eiona’s been crying all this time?”

            “No, she just started back up. She was playing, but the plaster came off and she didn’t want to sit still long enough for me to apply another.”

            “I don’t blame her. Here, give her here,” Harry said, taking his daughter from Draco’s clutches. She would’ve been fine if not for Draco’s pathological desire to put a plaster on an injury that didn’t need one in the first place and had long since disappeared.

            Harry stood up with his daughter, bouncing her up and down and murmuring, “Shush, it’s alright, Daddy’s got you,” over and over again in a never ending loop.

            Eiona stopped screaming, but kept fussing and reaching for the floor, like she wanted to be put down. Eventually Harry got the hint and let his daughter go. Eiona stopped crying the instant she was free and allowed to toddle over to her favorite doll, which lay abandoned on the floor.

            “You can’t just let her go Harry!” Draco proclaimed. “It’s a mess in here. Your elf didn’t clean, again.”

            Harry rolled his eyes at that. They’d argued half a hundred times over Kreacher. Draco wanted to bring over Dobson, a younger elf from the Manor. Harry refused, kept Kreacher passed his useful years, and told Draco to start picking up after himself. But Draco was a slob and what was more, he was a picky slob who complained about the mess he’d made. It was often left to Harry to pick up the place when he came home from a long day of work. That was what he did now, even though he’d worked all day and wanted nothing more than to sit down and relax.

            “And what about her finger? It needs a plaster or it will get infected!” Draco cried.

            Harry paused in his picking up medical supplies to stare at Draco incredulously. “No it doesn’t; there’s nothing there.”

            “Of course there’s something there! I saw it myself! There’s a bite from a rabid one-year-old veela! Vicky is a bloody nightmare; I told that Fleur I don’t want her and her bloody daughter coming over here again.”

            “Language! Not in front of Eiona.” Harry was back to picking up, plaster wrappers this time so that their daughter didn’t choke. Draco, as usual, didn’t lift a finger to clean. “Vicky’s just a baby; I’m sure she didn’t mean to bite.”

            “Ipheion never bit anyone,” Draco retorted petulantly.

            “Well Eiona’s perfect. You can’t expect perfection from other kids.”

            “Especially not for a part veela part Weasley one, that’s for sure.”

            Harry was quickly losing his patience with this conversation. Draco was not helping, there was nothing wrong with Eiona, and the mess was only going away as fast as his one wand could make it. His stomach grumbled and gave him an important change of subject. “Is Kreacher in the kitchen then, making supper?”

            “Supper? Who can think about supper at a time like this? Eiona is probably going to be scarred for the rest of her life!”

            “Draco, you’re over-reacting?”

            “I’m over-reacting!?! I am? I think you have failed to understand the gravity of the situation!”

            “Then explain it to me Draco.”

            “Our precious little Ipheion was bitten! We’re lucky her finger didn’t come clean off!”

            Harry rolled his eyes at that. “Just go check on Kreacher while I finish cleaning,” Harry requested as calmly as he could manage.

            “We wouldn’t have to check on Kreacher if you just let me bring Dobson over. He’s my elf and you said that this was my house too now. Why can’t my elf live with me in my house?”

            “Because Draco! Kreacher is a sentient being, not some robot you can discard when it gets old!”

            “A robot?”

            “A machine,” Harry clarified. “Just go check on dinner.”

            Hot, stinging tears started falling from Draco’s eyes again. He covered them with his hand and turned so that Harry wouldn’t see, before turning around. He went to check on dinner, but only as an excuse to hide his tears from Harry. He’d often been emotional lately, but was doing his best not to fall apart in front of his husband. His so called husband hadn’t hugged him in his time of distress or offered so much as one comforting word; he could feel the breakdown coming and he wasn’t going to do it where Harry could see.

            Kreacher was in fact sound asleep, standing up in the kitchen, with an oven-mit on one hand and his chin resting on the counter. Dinner was smoking away, ruined, in the oven. He was too old to cook and was a danger in the kitchen, both to himself and to others.

            Draco spelled out the fire under the stove and vanished the burnt meal. The air was thick and bitter with acrid black smoke, which Draco vanished. The smell of burned and blackened roast vanished, but lingered in Draco’s nose and mouth, bringing more tears to his eyes and he broke down in uncontrollable sobs. Logically he knew it was just dinner, but he was emotional, hungry, and just knew Harry was going to blame him for this. How was it his fault that Harry refused to let him bring over a new elf? Add in the stress from having an ill father, even one who was finally on the mend, and it was too much. Before he collapsed in sobs right there on the kitchen floor he decided to go outside.

            Draco had been working on the small garden in the back of number twelve, Grimmauld Place, since that spring. He’d gotten the overgrown weeds out of there and added in soft grass for Eiona to play on. The blue star-flowers Neville had given them were in bloom, the sole scrub in a sea of grasses, and Draco went to sit under them now. He sat and cried. He didn’t hear when Harry called for him, nor did he notice the setting of the sun, or the chill coming in from the night air. His tears dried on his face and he fell asleep like that.

            Harry did not know that there had ever been a roast for dinner or that Draco had saved them by turning off the stove before the roast caught fire. Nor did he know that Draco had cleaned something for once. He knew only that Kreacher was asleep on his feet when he came down the stairs with Eiona and that his husband was nowhere in sight. He called for Draco, but when there was no answer, he figured that Draco had gone off to Cissy’s. He was hungry and with no dinner in sight, he decided to go to the one place where dinner would always be on the table: the Burrow.

            Eiona didn’t like to travel by floo and always cried whenever they took her anywhere, but she liked side-along apparition even less, so it was the floo for them. Harry came out the other end in Molly and Arthur’s living room, jiggling a crying baby and trying to placate her with soft murmurs.

            “Oh dear! Is it that bad?” Molly asked, bustling into the room. “Fleur stopped by and told me all about it, but she said it was nothing and that Draco waz over-reacteen, as she put it.”

            “Oh, he was. It’s not that, it’s just the floo Molly,” Harry explained.

            “That’s good to hear, although I’ll admit that little Vicky is a bit violent. Ginny never hit or kicked me like that.” Molly showed Harry a black and green bruise on her arm to back up her point. “Percy was a rough little baby and the boys all had their moments, but Ginny was always a perfect little angel. I guess it doesn’t just come down to boys against girls. Oh listen to me blathering on, when it’s our precious little princess with the owie. Did you disinfect it Harry?”

            “No, there’s nothing to disinfect and I’m sure Draco already did it anyway.”

            Molly insisted on seeing the bite just the same, but came to the same conclusion Harry and Fleur had: it was nothing and wasn’t in need of medical treatment. Molly had supper on the table and extra for Harry and Eiona. They had a delicious meal that was far better than anything Draco or Kreacher could make.

            Draco didn’t cook much, but when he did, it was usually pudding. Draco had made a batch of bloody awful pudding last week. It was butterscotch with cranberries and peppermint. He was always adding things and thereby ruining, the pudding. What was so wrong with plain vanilla pudding? Why add marshmallows and honey to it? That wasn’t even the worst; the worst was when Draco had added the fresh lemon juice to the lemon pudding, making the dessert curdle.

            Harry figured Draco was probably at Malfoy Manor making another awful pudding. He tried not to think about Draco and enjoy the relaxing evening at the Burrow, but a summer thunder storm was coming on and he really had to be getting back home. Eiona needed to be bathed and put to bed and there was likely still messes back home to clean. Grudgingly, Harry said farewell to the Weasleys and returned to Grimmauld Place. Again he called out for Draco, but again received no response.

            Eiona still needed that bath, so Harry went about the usual nighttime routine by himself. When Draco still wasn’t home for story time, he began to wonder. He put Eiona to sleep, again by himself. Then he set Kreacher to watch the sleeping baby and apparated over to the Manor, to fetch Draco. Only Draco wasn’t at the Manor and Cissy said she hadn’t seen him. Harry carried on to St. Mungo’s, where Lucius was still staying, positive that that was where he’d find Draco.

            Cissy, on the other hand, apparated to Grimmauld Place, equally sure that that was where Draco was. She found him outside soaking wet on the grass, still sound asleep. She woke him up and brought him, dripping, into the kitchen. She had just gotten Draco onto the bench of the kitchen table when Harry returned.

            Harry was frantic after being told by the Aurors on duty guarding Lucius that Draco hadn’t been there all night. His plan was to return home, take the baby to Molly’s, and then track down every one of Draco’s friends. But then he heard Cissy’s voice coming from the kitchen and followed the sound. Draco was there, steam visibly rising from his hot body as the rainwater evaporated.

            “What happened?” Harry asked.

            “He fell asleep outside and got caught in the rain,” Cissy answered.

            “Draco, what were you doing outside, when I asked you to check on dinner?” Harry asked Draco directly this time.

            Draco didn’t answer. Instead he stared off into the distance, not focusing on Harry, who was right in front of him. He blinked a few times and when Harry repeated the question, he shrugged.

            “Harry, we need to get him cleaned up and put him to bed,” Cissy said.

            “Is something wrong with him? Why isn’t he answering properly?”

            “He’s still half asleep, is all. He used to do this as a child; he’d fall asleep somewhere and when I’d wake him, he would respond, but be still half gone. Just put him to bed and he will be right as rain in the morning.”

            And that is just what they did. Cissy cast a drying charm, Harry spelled away the puddles of water on the floor, and they took Draco upstairs to dress for bed. Draco went through the motions when prompted, but didn’t initiate any of it and was slow to do each step. Harry worried that Draco might have caught hypothermia outside in the rain, but it was a warm night and when he climbed into bed with his husband, he found Draco’s body to be very hot. He worried that night that Draco would catch a cold, but his husband was fine, just as Cissy had predicted, in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so the strange symptoms continue…personally I love the scene with Draco and the plasters :)  
> I have good news: I have worked out the arc for the fighting half of this story and written the outline for those chapters. This story is really coming along now.  
> Please Review!


	5. Chapter5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You are lucky I finished this right before dinner, because while cooking I sliced my index finger open. I just spent three hours in the emergency room getting 4 stitches.

            Harry wanted a divorce from Draco. They’d only been married for a year and some change, most of which had been spent fixating on Lucius and Eiona. Now that their daughter wasn’t a baby anymore and his father-in-law was on the mend, he was quickly growing sick and tired of his husband.

            It was little things at first, like their fight over house elves. Then there was the fact that Draco disliked Victoire Weasley. Ever since Vicky bit Eiona, Draco had been refusing Fleur’s proposed playdates. Draco claimed it wasn’t just the one biting incident, but that Vicky turned into a harpy whenever she didn’t get her way. Draco didn’t want the spoiled brat around his daughter. Harry hadn’t been there, hadn’t seen it, and didn’t believe it was as bad as Draco made it out, because there was never any evidence left on their daughter and Draco was prone to overreaction.

            Draco was still alright with Teddy, but had been leaving Dromeda with Eiona more and more often. He used to take the baby over to Dromeda’s house or invite her and Teddy over to Grimmauld Place, staying for the duration of the playdates. Lately he’d been saying he didn’t feel well and pawning his daughter off on his aunt. She was getting old and Teddy was enough for her to deal with; she didn’t need Eiona over there too.

            When Eiona wasn’t left with Dromeda for the day, she was at Malfoy Manor with Cissy. Now that she didn’t have Lucius’ health to worry about, she was happy to do it, and Draco had begun taking advantage. Harry didn’t like how often Draco was leaving Eiona with Cissy. Between Cissy and Dromeda on the weekdays and Harry taking their daughter to the Weasleys on the weekend, Draco was spending very little time with her.

            They’d also argued about where they lived. Grimmauld Place was tight with three people, because Harry still wouldn’t clean out the third floor with Sirius and Regulus’ things and Draco was used to living in a large house. Draco wanted more room to live and there was plenty of room in Malfoy Manor. Of course Harry didn’t want to live there and he didn’t think it was that cramped here, because he was used to living in a cupboard. Harry had refused to consider Draco’s point of view and insisted they maintained their current living arrangement.

            Then there was the fact that Draco had been spacey and moody lately. It had started on their anniversary and only gotten worse. The events the night Victoire bit Eiona were repeated several more times. Sometimes Harry noticed Draco crying and tried to comfort him, but more often he didn’t understand and ignored it. Other times Harry didn’t even notice and Draco successfully hid himself away, in a different location each time. When that happened, Harry would have to search through the house for where Draco had gone to sleep and then put a completely spaced-out Draco to bed. Draco never explained why he was doing it and Harry never made the link, instead becoming increasingly pissed off each time it happened. It happened again tonight.

            They’d just finished their desert after enjoying a nice family dinner at Grimmauld Place. Harry had eaten a delicious helping of treacle tart. Their daughter Eiona, at eighteen months old, was too little for treacle tarts, so she’d had some applesauce. Draco normally would’ve eaten some of the tart with his husband, but his stomach felt queasy, so he’d stuck to tea and a gingersnap. He’d been feeling ill a lot recently, but hadn’t said anything. Ginger snaps, ginger candies, and tea helped, staving off the nausea so that Harry didn’t notice.

            Draco really should’ve made an appointment to see his healer, but he didn’t. He was scared he had his father’s Motor Neurone disease and wasn’t ready to have it confirmed. He should’ve told Harry that he wasn’t feeling well, but he couldn’t bear the thought of opening up to his husband about it. Harry had been less than supportive and understanding with him of late. He worried that if he said something, Harry would ignore him, tell him he was overreacting, or that it was all in his head, like Harry did with everything else. Therefore he kept quiet.

            Draco got up to put his teacup and saucer in the sink, doing his best to clean up after himself. They still were without a properly functioning elf and Harry got mad whenever he didn’t pick up after himself. He couldn’t help that he didn’t know how, because he’d never had to do it before. When Harry took the time to give him specific instructions, like put your dishes in the sink when done, he tried to follow them. Sometimes he forgot, especially if there were a large number of things to do, but he was honestly trying.

            Harry was wiping up Eiona, cleaning the applesauce off her hands and face and spelling her bib clean. He wasn’t paying attention to Draco and didn’t realize how long his husband had been standing over the sink, staring off into space, until the teacup and saucer dropped, shattering as they collided with the stone basin. China shards went flying, some ending up on the counter, some on the floor, and most stayed in the sink.

            “Merlin Draco! I told you to _put_ the dishes in the sink, not _drop_ them in!” Harry yelled, jumping up to clean up the pottery shards before someone got hurt. “What is so hard about placing your dishes in the sink when you’re done with them? Now I have to get all of the fragments up or I’ll cut my hands washing them.” Harry looked up at Draco, to see him staring off into space. “Are you listening to me?” Draco looked at Harry blankly, not really hearing him. “Why aren’t you helping? At least let Eiona down and take her to her room.”

            The request didn’t sink into Draco’s head, unable to pass through the thick fog. He continued to stand there, staring blankly at Harry. When Draco didn’t move, Harry grew angrier. “Draco!” Harry yelled, Eiona cried, and Draco jumped. “Take Eiona up to her room!” Harry nearly growled it out.

            That sunk through and Draco slowly went to obey, unstrapping Eiona from her highchair and carrying her up the stairs to her room, her tears already drying now that no one was yelling. The tone Harry had used had sunk in, setting off Draco’s tears. He sat down, Eiona in his arms, in the rocking chair, rocking back and forth to sooth his emotional distress, his tears falling down his face into Eiona’s blond hair. How could Harry be so mean? Why couldn’t Harry see that Draco was trying? Why did Harry have to yell at him over an accident?

            Eiona started trying to break free from Draco’s arms, fussing when her father didn’t move. She then let out a wail that finally caused him to let her free. She took off immediately towards the mess of toys surrounding her toy box to play. He was hot, so got up to find a decent window to open. The window in Eiona’s room had been spelled not to open, to keep her safe, which meant he had to leave the room. He didn’t want Harry to see him crying, so he went up another floor, to the third floor landing, where there was a large window with a small balcony overlooking the street. He opened the window, stepped out onto the balcony and then decided to sit on the stone railing. It was a thick stone, so when he grew tired, he lay down and fell asleep in his precarious position.

            Meanwhile Harry stayed downstairs to clean up the kitchen after super. The shards had been vanished, the dishes washed, the pots scrubbed, and the counters and table given a thorough wipe down. Then he moved to the hallway, picking up shoes and coats, hanging up the coats, and placing the shoes in a neat line by the door. While he was doing this, he heard a bang from upstairs, followed by a cry, so he abandoned the shoes and rushed upstairs to Eiona’s room.

            Eiona was sitting inside one of her drawers, the chest fallen on its side from the weight. Her little fingers were caught between the piece of furniture and the rug and she screamed as she tried to pull them free. Harry rushed over, freeing the fingers and examining his daughter. She had a few scratches from the fall and her fingers were bright red from being pinched, but she was otherwise alright. He took her downstairs to the cellar, where he obtained a bit of ice from the icebox, which he used to sooth her fingers.

            Once the toddler stopped crying, Harry took her back to her room, where he righted the chest of drawers and told her not to climb on the furniture again. Eiona nodded in response, not actually understanding, before toddling over to her toys. She seemed to be playing safely, so he went in search of Draco.

            Harry’s anger was only increasing. First the cup and then Draco had left their daughter alone to climb on the furniture. What was so important that Draco couldn’t just stay and keep an eye on the toddler? What had Draco been doing while Harry was slaving away to clean up after them? Certainly not cleaning up Eiona’s room, that was for sure after seeing the mess all over the floor: toys and clothes strewn about. Sure Eiona had probably made the mess, but Draco could’ve cleaned it up or at least watched her.

            Harry looked in every room on the second floor, before assuming that Draco must’ve gone off to hide again. He didn’t know why Draco was hiding, other than to get away from him. Was Draco really that unhappy in their marriage? What right did Draco have to be unhappy? Draco wasn’t working, only staying home alone all day, while Harry worked and someone else watched their daughter. Draco wasn’t the one spending hours every night cleaning up his husband’s messes; that was Harry cleaning up after the slob. And to top it all off, after having the entire day to himself to do nothing, Draco couldn’t even watch Eiona while Harry cleaned.

            Harry was pissed as he climbed the stairs to the third floor. He looked in Sirius’ old room first, then Regulus’ old room, before heading back into the hallway, assuming Draco was in the attic again. Once he was facing the window which looked out on the street, his eyes were immediately drawn to where Draco was. He assumed Draco was only lying on the railing, which was dangerous in and of itself and stepped out onto the balcony to give his husband a piece of his mind.

            The air was bitingly cold as it blew over Harry’s face and hands. It was an unseasonable night, much colder than usual and Harry began to wonder what Draco was doing lying out in this weather. Although, it really wasn’t much different from the time Draco went to sleep in the rain, so he shrugged the wonder off, letting his anger seep back in.

            “Draco, what are you doing out here?” Harry asked angrily. Draco didn’t respond. “Do you have any idea what our daughter just did? She climbed up her chest of drawers and tipped it over. Her fingers were crushed, all because you couldn’t watch her. Draco! Are you listening to me?”

            Draco still hadn’t moved or so much as flinched at Harry’s angry words. It was then that Harry stepped closer, looking into Draco’s even face with closed eyes, and realized that Draco was asleep. “What the fuck is _wrong_ with you Draco!?!” Harry asked, grabbing Draco around the chest and pulling him off of the ledge, back onto the balcony.

            There was a loud thunk as Draco’s head hit the stone of the floor, Harry not having been as careful as he should’ve been. Draco woke up then, clutching his head and crying out in pain. Draco curled up in a ball in his pain and didn’t get up to move inside the house like Harry thought he should’ve.

            “Come on, let’s go inside,” Harry said, tugging on Draco’s arm, but said arm didn’t move from where it clutched at Draco’s head. “You would’ve been hurt a whole lot worse if you’d fallen the other way. What is wrong with you that you decided to do something so reckless? Don’t you care about Eiona at all?”

            There was no response that Harry could make out, so he levitated Draco’s body, guiding his husband back through the window into the house. He thought about continuing on to their bedroom and tucking Draco into bed, but he was tired himself and didn’t want to hear the continuing sobs; at least the wailing had stopped. He worried for a second that there was actually something wrong with Draco’s head, so he leaned down to examine the injury with the wave of his wand, but his diagnostic spell reported only a mild bruise. Draco’s skin was warm to the touch, despite the freezing cold outside, so he figured Draco hadn’t been outside that long.

            This was once again nothing more than Draco overreacting. Thus Harry left Draco lying on the rug and crying, while he went downstairs to put their daughter to bed by himself. He’d expected Draco to come down the stairs acting as if nothing had happened, but when he was ready for bed and Draco was still on the third floor, he went to sleep alone. Harry tossed and turned all night, fed up with Draco and their marriage. It wasn’t working, so what was there to do about it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Draco is getting worse…how do you think he’ll react when he wakes up on the floor with a head injury?  
> I would like to give a special thank you to diddleymaz, for being the only one to review the last chapter!


	6. Chapter6

             That night, Harry decided that they would be happier if they got a divorce, but he wasn’t ready to act on his decision. He was an Auror and his instincts were telling him to gather more information before making a change that would permanently affect their lives. Thus when he woke up, he decided he would take a day off from work to spy on Draco to see just what Draco was up to during the day. It had to be something, otherwise why was Draco so tired when he came home?

            Cissy arrived early that morning and was tending to Eiona, so Harry went off to work, with plans of asking for a day off in the near future.

            Cissy assumed Draco was still asleep, so she flooed with her granddaughter to the Manor.

            Draco was left on the third floor landing, where in a daze he’d fallen asleep the night before. He woke up with a headache from his head injury and dried tears crusted all over his face. It was his stomach that woke him, so he went first to the pantry to obtain the ingredients for a large pudding. Today he put apple slices into it and when he saw two left over slices of toast from Harry, he decided to add that as well. It needed something more, so he added a pinch of salt and garlic, before digging in.

            After the hearty breakfast, Draco went to soak in the bath for a good long while. In the warm water, he tried to piece together just what had happened. He vaguely remembered Harry yelling at him, as well as being very hot and sitting on the balcony. Then there was pain and Harry was with him on the third floor landing. That was where he’d woken up, so he figured Harry must’ve left him there. Why would Harry leave him when he was in so much pain? Why was he even in pain in the first place?

            Draco’s hand went up to his injured head, feeling the tender spot. It was on the back of his head, on the right hand side, but what could’ve caused it? He knew Harry had been angry with him and had left him, but had Harry been mad enough to hurt him? Could Harry do that to him? If it had been an accident, surely Harry would’ve stayed to comfort him; the fact that he’d been left made Harry seem guilty. Would Harry do it again? And more importantly, would Harry ever hurt their daughter?

            Draco didn’t know the answers to these questions, but he was scared by them. He thought about going to his mother or his friends with his problem, but was too embarrassed. What he needed was someone neutral to examine his wound and tell him what happened. Harry was always saying he overreacted and he didn’t want to go off accusing Harry when he didn’t know for sure what had happened. Thus he decided to visit a healer and let a professional tell him what happened to his head. If a healer said he’d been beaten, then he’d report it to the Aurors and get Eiona away from Harry.

            Healer Smith was family and Draco was too embarrassed to tell family, so seeing the wizard was out of the question. Instead Draco went to the Emergency ward at St. Mungo’s and let a stranger look over him. He showed them the injury, relayed what little he could remember of the night, and let the medi-wizard decide.

            “You hit your head. It seems fine, but the memory loss indicates otherwise. The diagnostic charms, however, rule out the possibility of a concussion. It’s a bit of a mystery. I think you must’ve suffered from a very mild concussion; too mild for the spell to detect. It interfered with your memory, but you’re fine now. I suggest you go home and take it easy for the next few days. If the headaches continue, come back and I’ll run some more tests,” the medi-wizard concluded.

            It was getting late and Harry would be home soon, so Draco apparated to the Manor to retrieve Eiona. He knew Harry disliked when he wasn’t home with Eiona when Harry got there and that Harry hated having to fetch their daughter. While he was there, Cissy asked what was wrong. He relayed what the medi-wizard said about hitting his head, memory loss, mild concussion, and that he was fine. She pursed her lips in concern, but let him go.

            Draco took Eiona home. When he went into her room he found a colossal mess, far worse than it’d been the night before. He wondered why Harry hadn’t cleaned it and had made it in the first place. It wasn’t safe to let his daughter play in this mess, so he gathered up a few toys for her to play with in the drawing room. He was reading to her from a thick and heavy old book of children’s stories when Harry came home. He stood up to greet his husband with the book still in hand, Eiona grasping onto his leg and saying, “Hi Daddy!”

            “Why on Earth did you bring the mess in here? Isn’t it bad enough you keep Eiona’s room so filthy?” Harry asked, taking in the half dozen toys on the floor. One was a set of blocks, strewn in a large pile.

            “I didn’t…” Draco trailed off confused. Why was Harry accusing him of making the mess in Eiona’s room? It was already there when he’d gotten home, so Harry must’ve made it the night before.

            “Yes you did! What do you do all day besides make messes? You slept all evening yesterday, so you couldn’t have been sleeping. Your mum watches Eiona. Why couldn’t you just use that time to pick up after yourself?”

            “I…” Draco’s explanation got stuck in his throat at the sight of Harry’s anger. Remembering his earlier thoughts that Harry might’ve hurt him last night, he instinctively raised his hands to clutch his head, the book slipping from his grip in the process.

            The book fell on Eiona, who was still clinging to Draco’s leg, hitting her in the face and hands, including her injured finger. She fell back and started screaming. Draco bent down to pick her up, an apology on his lips, but Harry swooped in, pushing him back, and grabbing the toddler. He took her to the other side of the room where he bounced her up and down, muttering, “Shush, Daddy’s got you now,” soothingly.

            Once Eiona’s crying stopped, Harry sat her down with the toys and turned to Draco.

            “How could you be so careless?” Harry asked angrily. “You dropped a book on our baby!”

            “I didn’t…mmean to. I-it was an accident,” Draco said, eyes darting around the room as his instincts screamed at him to run. What if Harry hurt him again and he woke up tomorrow on the floor? But Harry was between him and their daughter and he couldn’t leave without her, so he was frozen in place.

            “You never mean to do anything Draco!”

            A huge sob left Draco’s throat at Harry’s furious tone. He couldn’t stop the tears from coming and had trouble breathing through his tears, gasping for breath. He crumpled into a heap on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably.

            “I’m going to the Weasleys. I don’t care what you do,” Harry said to his crying husband, before turning to his daughter. “Come here Eiona, we’re going to see Grandmum Molly.”

            Eiona came and Harry scooped her up, taking her to the Weasleys to calm down. Molly asked what was wrong almost as soon as he was through the floo, but he said he didn’t want to talk about it just yet. They had dinner and then he let Molly take Eiona, while he went upstairs with Ron to vent. Ron never had a high opinion of Draco and was quick to take Harry’s side, assuring Harry that he wasn’t overreacting and that Draco was being a git.

            Draco stayed where he was and continued to cry, wondering why Harry was so mean and mad all the time. Kreacher hadn’t remembered to cook dinner and without Harry there, no one even noticed, Draco too upset to remember to eat. He had only eaten pudding that day and without food in his stomach, his thoughts became muddled. He eventually stopped crying, staring off in a fog there on the drawing room floor.

            Draco was still sitting in the drawing room staring off into space when Harry came home. He put Eiona to bed and then prepared for bed himself. Draco hadn’t moved when he looked in on his husband before bed and he began to feel bad. He’d left Draco to sleep on the floor the night before and didn’t want to do the same tonight, especially because this time Draco was quiet. Thus he decided to take mercy on his husband and put Draco to bed.

            “Get up and come to bed,” Harry said, approaching Draco, but Draco didn’t respond.

            Harry huffed and pulled on Draco’s arm, only to have his husband flinch away from him. “Come on,” he said, bending down, wrapping an arm under Draco’s armpits, and pulling upwards. “Get up you great lump.”

            Draco stood slowly and let Harry lead him to their room. He sat on the bed when Harry pushed down on his shoulders. Harry pushed him backwards and he lay on the bed. Harry turned off the light and crawled in the bed exhausted and ready to go to sleep, only to have Draco crawl out of the bed. Harry assumed he had to use the loo and waited impatiently for him to return to their bed. But he never came back and when Harry spelled the lights back on, he was asleep sitting up against the wall. He hadn’t needed to use the loo; he just didn’t want to sleep with Harry.

            Harry went to sleep feeling hurt that night. Didn’t Draco love him anymore? Was Draco as miserable in their marriage as he was? Maybe it’d be best if he asked for a divorce, since Draco wouldn’t even sleep in the same bed with him.

            That night Harry began to wonder if Draco was sneaking around on him with someone else. It would explain why Draco couldn’t stand to be near him and wouldn’t sleep in the same bed with him. It would also explain why Draco was so tired all of the time, even though he never did anything as far as he could tell. And maybe it just might explain why Draco never wanted to have as much sex as he did, if Draco was getting it from someone else.

            Harry couldn’t wait for his day off tomorrow so that he could spy on his husband. Robards didn’t typically grant days off with such short notice, but another Auror had switched with him. It meant he’d given up one of his vacation days, but it was worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cissy is going to give Harry a piece of her mind tomorrow and Harry is going to spy on Draco.  
> Please Review!


	7. Chapter7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to diddleymaz and borderlinecrazy for the reviews!  
> I didn’t know I was going to write the following until I did, but I need to up the warnings. This story now contains either non-con or dub-con…I’m not sure which.

            Harry always left for work long before Draco woke up in the morning. Even Eiona wakes before Draco does; which was why Cissy was in the habit of letting herself in early and taking care of her granddaughter, so that her son could sleep in. Harry didn’t have to work that day, but he didn’t want anyone, including Cissy, to know, so he got up at the normal time and dressed for work. He’d wait until Cissy left and then hide.

            Cissy had something to say to Harry, because she found her son-in-law’s actions entirely intolerable. She changed Eiona’s nappy, handed over a bottle of milk, and left her granddaughter in the crib. Then she knocked on Harry’s bedroom door.

            Harry had just pulled on his robes and was looking for socks. “Yes?” he called, wondering if it was Draco. Draco wasn’t in their bed, but then Harry remembered that Draco had slept on the floor. He glanced on the other side of the bed and sure enough Draco was still passed out on the floor.

            “Harry, can we talk?” Cissy asked, cracking open the door.

            “Sure, let’s go in the drawing room. Draco’s still asleep,” Harry said, bringing his socks with him to the door. For some reason he didn’t want his mother-in-law to know how bad things were and that Draco was sleeping on the floor.

            Cissy agreed and they sat in the drawing room.

            “What did you want to talk about?” Harry asked, wondering what Draco had been telling his mother.

            “Draco seemed worried when he came over yesterday. He said he’d just been to hospital to have them look at a bump on his head. He couldn’t remember how he’d gotten it. He said the medi-wizard said the memory loss was due to a very mild concussion, but that he was fine. Do you know how my son hit his head Harry?” Cissy asked pointedly, almost accusingly.

            “Yes, the stupid git was sleeping on the railing of the balcony on the third floor. I pulled him down, but he’s heavy and his head hit the stone. I checked him over and the spell reported that there was nothing wrong with him,” Harry answered. He was skeptical that Draco really couldn’t remember and wondered how Draco had convinced a medi-wizard to diagnose him with a concussion. Going to hospital over a bruise had to be the epitome of an overreaction and he thought that it was so typical Draco that he wanted to scream.

            “And was he acting normally? Were there any signs of a concussion?”

            “There were no signs, but he was clutching his head and screaming all out of proportion. I figured he was overreacting again and left him there.”

            “Next time you are tired of dealing with my son, Harry, please fetch me. I’ll be more than happy to look after him.” She said it sweetly, but it sounded like a reprimand just the same, as if unlike Harry, she was perfectly willing to tend to a concussion.

            Harry was about to tell her to take Draco now and that he was still tired of dealing with Draco’s bullshite. But today was his day off and his one chance to spy on Draco. He couldn’t spy on his husband if Draco wasn’t here, so instead he nodded and said, “Alright, but I have to finish getting ready for work.”

            “Yes. I’ll just take Eiona to the Manor now,” Cissy said, standing up and then heading towards Eiona’s room.

            Harry went downstairs to have breakfast and it wasn’t long before he heard the sound of Cissy flooing away with his daughter. After breakfast, he went back upstairs to find Draco still sound asleep on the floor. Figuring Draco would be up soon, he piped one of George’s extendable ears from the drawing room, through the fireplace, to Sirius’ old room above. Then he went upstairs to Sirius’ old room and waited. Unlike Draco, he actually had a reason to be tired, because he worked so much and came home only to clean the house at night. Thus he lay down on the bed and closed his eyes, waiting for Draco to get up. He fell asleep there.

            Harry slept through Pansy’s unexpected arrival. She came over uninvited to tell Draco her good news, waking him up. Draco scrambled to put himself together and tried to act normally in front of his friend, even though he’d woken up on the floor for the second morning in a row without knowing how he’d gotten there. He thought it was pretty shitty of Harry to make him sleep on the floor.

            Draco let Pansy in and led her to the kitchen, where he found the usual two slices of cold toast, which he ate, not having anything to offer his friend.

            “Not that I don’t love you Pansy, but why are you here so early? It’s barely ten thirty,” Draco said, having washed down the toast with water.

            “Good to see you too you lazy git. I’m pregnant and I wanted you to be the first to know. I just came from St. Mungo’s,” Pansy said cheerfully with a large smile.

            “Congratulations! That’s really wonderful! Shouldn’t you tell Blaise first?” Draco asked.

            Pansy and Blaise were newly married, having tied the knot just after Draco and Harry.

            “He already knows I suspect it, but I’ll tell him officially when he gets home tonight. Now stop being so rude and offer me some tea and biscuits. I’m pregnant after all, so you have to feed me.”

            “Alright, but I have to warn you that our elf is useless. Last I saw him he was using a spatula to clean the second floor toilet. I’ll have to make it myself.”

            “Can you do that? You, make tea, I mean?”

            “I’ve learned a bit, but no guarantees. It’s not always drinkable,” Draco said with a shrug, taking out their tea kettle. Harry always got mad when he ruined the tea, like it was impossible to mess up, when it wasn’t.

            Draco made tea and it came out alright, which he thanked Salazar for. He called Kreacher to ask for biscuits and the elf produced a package of Draco’s gingersnaps. Thus with tea and biscuits, they went to the drawing room to chat. They talk about pregnancy matters and how Blaise will be waiting on her hand and foot during the end of it, like Harry did for Draco when he was on bed rest. Draco wanted to have another baby, despite his unmentioned problems with Harry, which set Pansy off gushing about how their children would all grow up together.

            Then Draco said, “Yes, and I can’t wait for when Harry has to wait on me hand and foot again. Our house elf situation is entirely intolerable. Something like that is bound to make him see how much we need a new one.”

            Meanwhile, Harry was sleeping upstairs having a bad dream about Draco and Pansy planning to revive the Death Eater movement. Every word being said in the room below was coming out of the extendable ear, lying nearby. He woke up just in time to hear Draco’s last statement, not knowing what was being discussed.

            Harry stayed put and continued to listen in. Draco and Pansy turned to discussing politics. Being another reelection year, Kingsley Shacklebolt was going up against a pureblood politian named Fawley. Draco and Pansy supported the pureblood Fawley, wanting to get Kingsley out of office. Listening to the discussion while his thought process was tainted by his earlier dream, Harry began to think Draco was still anti-muggle and muggleborns after all. Perhaps Draco had lied about being alright with Hermione and supporting the light. With the way Draco disparaged Shacklebolt, it was clear that he wasn’t as supportive of Harry’s politics as he’d thought. Harry didn’t really know much about this Fawley, but he assumed the worst of him and thereby Draco and Pansy as well.

            Finally Harry decided he’d heard enough and apparated away to think. He went for a walk in a nearby park so that he could consider all that he’d learned.

            Pansy’s arrival was a one-off, but Harry didn’t know that and assumed that her appearance today meant that Draco spent his days gossiping with his friends. And since Draco didn’t sleep nearly as late that day as he usually did, Harry didn’t notice how many hours the wizard usually slept and didn’t think anything was wrong. Instead he thought it was rather pathetic that his husband was spending so much time with friends instead of their daughter.

            Secondly, Draco’s politics were pro-Fawley, which Harry assumed meant pro-the old Death Eater ideals. That meant he hadn’t changed as much as Harry had assumed. It also made Harry think Draco had been lying to him during all of those times Draco had insisted he supported muggle and muggleborn rights. If Draco was lying about that, what else might he have lied about? Was their relationship nothing more than a ploy to get the wizard off the hook for his crimes during the war? Draco was always saying how he wanted his father free; could he be using Harry in order to bring about Lucius’ freedom?

            Thirdly, Draco had talked about wanting Harry to wait on him hand and foot. Harry was already doing half of the cooking and cleaning, while Kreacher was doing the other half, and Draco nothing. Did his husband really expect Harry to do more, even though he was the one who worked all day? All Draco did was sit and talk; it was he who should be doing more of the cleaning. Why couldn’t his husband do a bit of cleaning while he talked? Or at the very least, clean up his mess afterwards?

            Around two O’clock Harry realized he was hungry and stopped for a supersized grease filled lunch at the place on the corner. Draco hated greasy food, so it was a rare treat. After the meal, he returned to the park and continued to fume.

            Then there were the facts that Harry had already known about to consider, such as that Draco was always leaving Eiona with his mother and never spending any time with her. Draco was pulling away from the Weasleys, no longer trying to be friendly with Harry’s adopted family. Draco absolutely refused to allow Eiona to interact with Fleur and Victoire and had drastically cut down on visiting Dromeda and Teddy. When Draco did take Eiona to Dromeda’s, he left the baby there with the elderly woman and went home to gossip with Pansy Bloody Parkinson.

            Some of the things Harry was looking for in a husband was a man to take care of their child, accept his Weasley family, and spend time with his godson, which were all qualities Draco had had when they married, but lacked now.

            Then there was Draco’s ridiculous behavior. He was fine with Parkinson, but either crying or spacey with Harry. Even if Narcissa didn’t think there was anything wrong with her son acting like a zombie when Harry was around, Harry did. He wanted a loving attentive husband, like the man Draco used to be. He didn’t want to have to deal with any more of Draco’s overreactions and fits of crying or zoning out. Draco hadn’t even wanted to share a bed with him for the last two nights, for Merlin’s sake!

            Of course Draco would probably blame the non-existent concussion for his spacy behavior last night. The fact that Draco was going around telling everyone, including his mother, that he had a concussion when he didn’t pissed Harry off to no end. The git should be grateful to Harry for saving him from falling off that railing, instead of complaining about a comparably insignificant bruise. What was a bruise in exchange for a life? Of course Draco would overreact and blame Harry for saving him. Who would Draco tell next about the pretend concussion? And why was Draco trying to make people feel sorry for him? Was Draco trying to turn people against Harry?

            No, the situation was entirely intolerable as far as Harry was concerned. He’d spied on Draco and while he hadn’t discovered cheating, what he found was still rather bad. After today, he was just a bit more convinced that he needed a divorce. But even with all of that, he wasn’t certain and he definitely wasn’t ready to admit that it was time for a divorce. After all, Draco wasn’t cheating, so maybe he really did love Harry.

            Harry needed to find out whether there was still something between him and Draco _before_ he made his decision on whether or not to ask for a divorce. Thus that evening he decided to ask someone to watch Eiona and try for one last night of passion. It was only four, but he decided to go home anyway and pretend he’d gotten off work a bit early. He apparated into the entry hall and went up the stairs, expecting to find Draco with Eiona. Only there was no sign of Eiona and Draco had gone back to bed.

            Harry figured that Eiona was still at Cissy’s, so he flooed over to Malfoy Manor. Sure enough, Eiona was there and Cissy was worried about Draco. Harry assured her that Draco was fine, just asleep. Then he asked her to watch his daughter for the night, so that he and Draco could have some romantic time to reconnect. She agreed, so he went back home to his husband.

            Smoke was billowing out of the kitchen when Harry returned home. Kreacher’s fry up was on fire, so Harry dashed into the kitchen to put out the flames. Kreacher was curled up on the rug like a dog, fast asleep and oblivious to the hazard he’d created. Harry left the old elf and disposed of the ruined dinner. He wasn’t hungry anyway, having grabbed a large late lunch at the fast food stand by the park.

            Harry went upstairs and found Draco still in bed. He removed his clothes and crawled into bed with Draco, pulling Draco into his arms. He placed kisses up and down Draco’s neck and caressed Draco’s body, doing his best to make a real effort to revive the missing passion. Draco had been putting on weight as of late, but it wasn’t much and Harry was still more than attracted to him.

            Draco started responding to Harry’s touch, moaning and moving slightly. He was certain Harry was there touching him and that he should wake up, but he couldn’t. It was like there was this impenetrable invisible force field keeping him down, under the haze of sleep. He grew hard, just like he would in any wet dream with Harry. He tried to move, to return Harry’s caresses, but it felt like his arms and legs weighed a ton. He moved one leg slowly, to allow Harry access to his body, in short jerks, expending an insane amount of effort to do so. Then he fell a bit deeper into sleep and couldn’t remember if he’d really moved or only dreamed he’d moved.

            Harry undressed the both of them with a spell, encouraged by Draco’s moans and by the fact that Draco had opened his legs. The only light in the room came in through the window and with the setting sun, the room was quickly becoming darker. In the dim light, Harry didn’t even notice that Draco never opened his eyes. Besides, Draco often closed his eyes and just concentrated on the feel during sex.

            Draco’s dick was hard and pulsing against Harry’s and Harry rubbed their bodies together. Harry could hear Draco panting for breath and made out an open mouth in the dim light.

            “Do you want this?” Harry asked, pressing a lubed finger into Draco’s arse.

            When Draco’s only response was a long moan, Harry took it as a yes. He quickly prepared Draco, before casting the usual contraceptive charm and pushing into that hot tight hole. It felt the same as before, if anything tighter from the lack of regular sex. That was another sign in favor of the hypothesis that Draco was not having an affair.

            Harry couldn’t remember when the last time they’d had sex was, but he knew it wasn’t long after their anniversary, over two months ago. It was the longest they’d gone without being intimate since they’d gotten together after Draco’s kidnapping. As such Harry really needed the release and found a pleasing pace, thrusting into his husband’s tight hole. He wanted to be close to Draco, to pour all of his remaining passion for the wizard into this coupling, so he lowered his body to Draco’s, resting his head in the crook of Draco’s neck.

            The air smelled of sex and sweat and Harry could feel the heat radiating off of Draco’s body and the pulse of Draco’s blood through the thick vein on the side of Draco’s neck. He could even feel the vibrations of Draco’s moans. He pushed in and pulled out, altering his angle slightly with each thrust, trying to find Draco’s spot, using the intensity of Draco’s moans as his guide. Then Draco practically started screaming his pleasure, so Harry kept that exact angle, reaching down to tug on Draco’s cock until Draco came.

            Once Draco achieved orgasm, his wet dream ended and he fell so deep into sleep that he was dead to the world. His brain failed to process the fact that Harry was still fucking him or when Harry came inside him.

            When Harry finished, he spooned Draco for a bit, having turned his husband’s limp body on his side. He thought at first that Draco was just out of it from being fucked so thoroughly; after all Draco had gone loopy from sex on their anniversary too. Then he realized that Draco had fallen back to sleep and mistook it as a good sign, thinking Draco had fallen asleep in his arms and that that meant Draco still loved him. He closed his eyes and fell asleep too.

            Harry woke in the night to find himself still naked, with his morning wood pressed against Draco’s arse. He reached down to find Draco’s arse slick with his cum from earlier and decided another round was in order. He pressed into Draco from behind, with Draco still lying on his side, meaning to wake Draco up with sex.

            Draco woke up then. He hadn’t eaten since tea with Pansy over twelve hours previously and then it had been only toast and ginger biscuits, so his head was foggy and he wasn’t really processing what was happening. It felt good, so he let it happen, sticking out his arse to improve the angle. He felt pleasantly full and it sent exquisite tingles up his spine when Harry hit his spot. He moaned loudly and turned over onto his stomach, to obtain some friction for his aching cock. Harry followed him and pounded his arse into the mattress, stimulating his cock.

            Draco’s head was turned to the side, his eyes shining in the moonlight, and his lips pouting seductively as he gasped for breath. Harry leaned in and captured those plump lips in a fierce kiss. Draco responded to the kiss, molding his lips to Harry’s and moaning into Harry’s mouth. Draco’s hands reached out on either side of his body, searching for Harry’s arms. When Draco found them, he pulled them in under himself, encouraging Harry to wrap his arms around Draco’s pliant body.

            Harry had his legs on either side of Draco’s closed legs, his dick ramming into Draco’s arse. The position kept Draco’s hole relatively closed, even though Harry had done his best to fuck it wide open earlier. He held Draco’s chest tightly to his own, feeling Draco’s heart race under his fingers. Draco’s hands were also underneath him and Harry falsely assumed they were on Draco’s cock, but really they were instinctively cupped around Draco’s expanding stomach, protecting something he didn’t even know was there.

            Then Draco let out a loud groan, indicating that Harry had found his spot. Harry started pounding into Draco as hard and fast as he could, triggering both of their orgasms. He was in ecstasy as he felt Draco’s arse clench tightly around his own spamming cock. He was certain they were still one, because how else had they managed to cum together?

            Harry closed his eyes and went back to sleep. Draco went to the loo, having only managed not to piss himself because his erection prevented it; his bladder that full. Then he climbed back into bed with Harry and went back to sleep, still light headed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How do you think Draco should react when he wakes up this time? It always seems so sexy when someone wakes up their partner with sex, but the one time it happened to me, I couldn’t wake up until like halfway through; did not turn out sexy at all.  
> Next chapter the topic of divorce will finally be discussed.  
> In other news, one of my other stories is coming to an end, which means, I get to start posting a new story (I’m one of those people who hate having too many stories in progress at one time). My new story is drama, romance, and adventure; Draco/Harry slash with mpreg of course! It’ll have a war fought on a dragon reserve going on in the background, so there will be plenty of rampaging dragons and close calls, but it’s mostly about Draco and his dragon mysticism religion. Draco is keeping secrets and Auror Harry is determined to uncover them in order to save Draco, by evacuating him from the war-zone. It’s called Dragon Kissed and I just posted the first chapter!


	8. Chapter 8

            Harry woke up a few hours later and went to work feeling happier than he had in a long time. If Draco wasn’t having an affair and they still had passion in their bed, then maybe they could work through this? Maybe he could let Dobson come over during the day and clean, without getting rid of Kreacher. Kreacher had actually started a fire the night before and the kitchen ceiling had the scorch marks to prove it, so maybe it was time to bring in some help. Maybe then things would go back to normal with Draco.

            Draco woke up naked that morning alone in his bed. His arse was sore and dripping with seamen. He wasn’t yet awake enough to consider that, so instead he went down to the kitchen, where he found an actual breakfast waiting for him for once. He tried to sit down, but his bum hurt too much for that, so he stood and ate his eggs, bacon, and toast. It wasn’t his ideal meal, because it was a bit greasy for his tastes, but he was just happy Harry had left it for him. He knew it was Harry’s cooking, because it was Harry’s favorite breakfast and lacking Kreacher’s signature burnt edges.

            With a large plate of food in his stomach, Draco began to think about just why his arse hurt so badly. There was a constant tingle in it, even when standing, as if he’d had rough sex last night. His hole was still leaking fluid into his knickers, further supporting the hypothesis that he’d had sex. He tried to remember last night, but all he could remember was taking a nap after Pansy left. He couldn’t remember Harry or Eiona, the latter worrying him much more than the former.

            Draco really hoped that it was at least Harry he’d had sex with, but finding his daughter was his top priority, so he apparated to the Manor. He found his mother, who assured him that Eiona was alright and that Harry had stopped by to ask her to watch their daughter. Not having seen his daughter at all the day before and hardly getting to spend time with her the last few days, he went to her now. He pulled her into his arms and told her how much he loved her and miraculously, the toddler stayed put for once.

            Draco spent a few hours playing with his daughter, singing her children’s songs and breaking out the finger paint. They had a lot of fun and it was all cleaned up by the Manor elves, who were neither too old nor too useless to work. They had a nice time together.

            After a while Draco decided he really did need a bath. He stunk and his arse was sticky, still oozing into his knockers. He left Eiona with his mother and returned to Grimmauld Place to bathe, soaking his sore bum in the warm soapy water.

            It was lying there in the bath that Draco began to think about what must’ve happened the night before. He’d been asleep and he had memories of a sex dream with Harry. In his dream too he’d been asleep, while Harry was fucking him, and he couldn’t wake up. He decided that the dream must’ve been real. Harry had decided to fuck him while he was asleep, likely so that Harry wouldn’t have to deal with him. Harry always wanted sex and didn’t care how Draco felt, so he must’ve took it. The only question was had Harry given him something to keep him asleep?

            To find out, Draco decided to brew a few potions. First he brewed one to determine who the sperm had come from, using a sample from his soiled knickers. It was Harry’s, just as Draco thought. That was both relieving and disconcerting. Relieving, because it meant he hadn’t been raped by some stranger. Disconcerting, because it lent support to his dream. The only thing left to do was brew a potion to determine if there were any potions in his system, such as one that might render him unable to wake.

            Draco was still at his cauldron when Harry came home. Harry didn’t notice him at first, walking right by the closed door to the potion’s lab when he went to check on Kreacher and dinner. Kreacher was asleep with his nose in a pan of chicken he was breading. It was already practically time for dinner, which meant that there was no way the chicken would be ready in time. Besides, the last thing Harry wanted was another fire.

            “Kreacher, wake up!” Harry called.

            “Sorry Master. Kreacher is very sorry,” Kreacher muttered groggily.

            “Scrap the chicken; I want sandwiches for supper. Cold cuts and cheese with veggies. From now on no more things that have to be cooked on the stove; I don’t want any more fires.”

            “Yes Master. Right away Master,” Kreacher said.

            Then Harry went in search of Draco, but couldn’t find him or Eiona. He figured Cissy still had the toddler, so he went to the Manor. Cissy did in fact still have Eiona and said Draco had spent the morning there with the child, which Harry found to be a pleasant surprise. Was Draco taking an interest in their daughter again? But if so, why hadn’t he retrieved her in time for supper? Where was he now? Cissy insisted he’d gone back to Grimmauld Place, so maybe Harry had missed him or else Draco had lied to his mother about where he was going.

            Having retrieved Eiona, Harry flooed home and found a spread of edible sandwiches courtesy of Kreacher on the table. He sat Eiona in her highchair and handed her one, cutting it into little toddler sized squares. Then he summoned the milk and made her a sippy cup, before sitting down to eat himself.

            “Shall Kreacher summon Master Draco for supper?” Kreacher asked.

            “Is he here then?” Harry asked.

            “Yes. Master Draco has been in the potions lab all afternoon.”

            “Thanks Kreacher, but I’ll fetch him myself. You keep an eye on Eiona,” Harry said, getting up to see for himself just what Draco was brewing.

            There were a number of potions they used on a regular basis that Draco could be brewing, any of which would please Harry. Draco hadn’t brewed in a while and ever since Lucius had gotten sick, Harry had been buying potions to supplement Draco’s reduced production. Brewing again showed effort and initiative on Draco’s part, which his husband hadn’t shown in months. And if it were something for Eiona, such as teething potion or baby fever reducer, then it would show an interest in their daughter too, which would please him even more.

            But when Harry opened the door to the potions lab and recognized the potion brewing in Draco’s cauldron, he knew it wasn’t one of Draco’s usuals. It was a potion Harry used at work with the Aurors when they needed to determine which potions were in someone’s system.

            “Why are you brewing that?” Harry asked.

            “Er…” Draco replied, not knowing what to say. Should he tell Harry what he suspected? That would probably anger Harry and when Harry got angry, Draco tended not to remember what happened.

            “Draco, answer me,” Harry insisted.

            “My bum hurts…” Draco said looking down at the cauldron, blushing.

            “Then why not make a pain potion or an anal soothing potion?”

            “Because I’ve been feeling weird and I wanted to make sure there wasn’t something in my system.”

            “Weird how?”

            “I don’t remember the last three nights,” Draco admitted softly, not making eye contact.

            “You don’t remember the last three nights?” Harry asked incredulously; how could Draco not remember them making love last night?

            Draco nodded. “Ever since the night I hit my head.”

            “So you’re overreacting over that bump on your head again. Why are you checking for potions? I thought you were playing up the pretend concussion route?”

            “The spell said I didn’t have a concussion. The medi-wizard said that even if I did, I should be fine by now. I just thought it was a good idea to check what’s in my system.”

            “Why, because you think I drugged you?” Harry’s tone was incredulous again.

            “Or Kreacher,” Draco added. Who knows what the elf put in his food.

            “You are unbelievable Draco! You know what? I want you to finish making that potion and take it in front of me. I want to know what you’ve been taking. It better be some good shite to explain your behavior. I’m going back to have supper with our daughter. Join us if you like.”

            Harry turned and left. Draco was hungry, so he cast a stasis charm on his potion and joined his family for a relatively nice meal. They were quiet, all except Eiona, who was babbling nonstop, a few of her words even understandable.

            After a couple of sandwiches, Draco went back to the lab and finished his potion. It was almost bedtime by the time it was done and he thought Harry might already be putting their daughter to bed, but Harry wasn’t. Harry was playing with Eiona in her room, having cleaned up the mess for once.

            “I finished it,” Draco said nervously walking into the room.

            “Okay, take it. Let’s see what you’re on,” Harry replied, looking up from Eiona.

            Draco took it and revealed that he didn’t have any potions in his system.

            “Unbelievable. There’s nothing wrong with you. This is just another case of you overreacting. I swear you’re a hypochondriac.”

            “I’m tired. I’m going to bed,” Draco said stepping forward to give his daughter a kiss on the head and saying goodnight, before leaving the room.

            Harry put Eiona to sleep and then went to his room, only to find Draco not there. He could’ve sworn his husband said he was going to bed and the fact that the wizard wasn’t in their bed made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Thus he decided to go looking for Draco.

            It didn’t take Harry long to find Draco this time, having found his husband in the third place he looked: in Draco’s old bedroom from when he’d first taken Draco in. It was more of a storage room now, piled high with boxes of stuff and no longer used baby items. There was barely a path to the bed, which was still half covered in a large pile of Eiona’s old clothes.

            “Draco! What are you doing in here?” Harry asked angrily, already knowing the answer. Draco wanted to sleep alone.

            “Going to bed,” Draco answered, sitting up.

            “Why won’t you sleep in my bed with me anymore?”

            “Because I’m tired of not remembering what happened and waking up with things I can’t explain.”

            “What things?”

            “The bruise on my head and your sperm in my arse for two. I also don’t know why you made me sleep on the floor the night before last.”

            “I didn’t make you sleep on the floor. I put you in the bed with me and you crawled out. You got the bruise on your head when you bumped it while I was pulling you off of the ledge on the third floor balcony; you’re very welcome for saving your life. And the sperm is from when we had sex last night, or don’t you remember that either?”

            “You know I don’t. I was asleep.”

            “How could you possibly have been asleep? You were moaning and responding like you were awake.”

            “I had a wet dream, but I couldn’t wake up. I tried, but I couldn’t.”

            “What about the second time? I clearly saw your eyes open and you were definitely awake.”

            “I didn’t know there was a second time…”

            “Of course you don’t. The one night we finally get things back on track and you don’t remember it. You were asleep the whole time. Just when I think there might be something left of our marriage to save and it turns out to be nothing more than a dream.

            “Why, because of the sex? Is that all our marriage is to you?”

            “It seems that way.”

            They were both quiet for several minutes while Draco cried and Harry bucked up the courage to say what he had to say. Finally, when he couldn’t bear the sound of Draco’s sobs for another minute, he said, “Draco, I want a divorce.”

            “What?”

            “Neither of us are happy. We’d be better off, the both of us, if we were apart. You can take Eiona to your mother’s. I don’t care what you do with yourself. I’m going to talk to a lawyer in the morning.”

            “No, you can’t be serious.”

            “I am very serious Draco. It’s over. Goodnight.”

            Harry turned and walked out the door heading to his bedroom, Draco following after. Once inside his room, Harry turned around and asked, “What Draco? It’s late, what do you want now?”

            “What about to death do us part? What about our marriage vows? What about when I promised to love you forever and you me?” Draco’s pleading voice cracked towards the end, tears running down his face.

            “We are too different. It could never have worked.”

            “But I love you.” Draco fell to his knees in front of Harry.

            “And I can’t stand you. If you don’t go back to your own room, I’m going to fetch your mum to deal with you.”

            “No, please Harry.”

            “Come on, back to bed with you,” Harry said, leading Draco back into the other bedroom. Once there, he let go of Draco, pushing Draco’s hands off his body. “Stay.”

            Harry left, but Draco didn’t stay. Draco went to Eiona’s room, where he fetched his daughter and brought her back to his room so that he had someone to cuddle. Eiona fussed a bit at being moved, but fell back to sleep quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter Draco moves into the Manor and Harry goes to see a lawyer; I think it’s the turning point in the story, after which Harry will begin to realize what an idiot he is.
> 
> I would like to remind everyone that this story is still very much a work in progress. While I have the outline for the first half of the story and very rough drafts for the next few chapters, the end still very much needs to be worked out. Your reviews provide important feedback and inspiration for writing. Even if it’s just a few words or your random thoughts on the story, they help me brain storm. So Please Review!


	9. Chapter9

             Eiona wasn’t in her crib in the morning, so Cissy knocked on Harry’s door, calling, “Harry?”

            “Just a minute,” Harry called, scrambling for his robes, which he quickly flung over his head. Once he was decent enough, he opened the door. “Yes Cissy?”

            “Do you have Eiona? She’s not in her crib.”

            “No…Where could see be? I left her in her crib!”

            “Is Draco still asleep in there?”

            “No…er, actually he slept in the other room.”

            “The storage room with no windows?”

            “Yes…It’s not all that bad. It was a real bedroom before we started piling things in there.”

            “Right, well I’ll just check there for my granddaughter then,” Cissy said, turning and walking away towards the other room.

            Harry followed a few paces after, wanting to make sure the child was found. Sure enough, Eiona was sitting up in bed patting a still sleeping Draco and babbling.

            Cissy retrieved Eiona and flooed to her house. That settled, Harry finished getting ready for work.

            Draco woke up alone, which of itself wasn’t that unusual. What was different was the gaping hole in his chest that felt like Harry had ripped out his heart and stomped on it. His eyes were red rimmed from crying and he couldn’t stop the tears from falling again now that he was awake. He took a long bath and then cried himself to sleep in Harry’s bed afterward.

            During his lunch hour, Harry went to speak to a lawyer about drawing up divorce papers. He wanted to get the divorce over with as soon as possible, but unfortunately his lawyer informed him that there was a long process to go through, which typically took between three months and a year or longer, depending on whether both parties agreed or not. Harry thought it was a bit absurd that a divorce could take longer than his marriage had lasted. He left the office determined to convince Draco to accept the divorce and not drag it out.

            After work, Harry stopped by Cissy’s, to explain to her why he’d asked her son for a divorce. He’d assumed that Eiona would already be gone, because Draco should’ve already picked her up, but she was still there. He’d also assumed that Draco would’ve already informed Cissy about the divorce, but that assumption was wrong too, because she was clueless. Thus he was left with no choice but to tell the woman himself and try to convince her that it was for the best. After all, if there was anyone who could convince Draco not to fight it, it was Cissy.

            “So, will you ask Draco not to fight this?” Harry asked, holding Eiona in his arms.

            “No. I will have to talk to my son first and see what he has to say. I reject all of your arguments against him being the cause of the problems. I may, however, concede that it’s in Draco’s best interest to get away from you. You have proven yourself to be less than the caring husband I’d hoped you’d be. I am appalled by you Harry James Potter. Your mother and father, were they alive, would be ashamed of you today. I feel I must warn you, that if you hurt my son again—if he has so much as a scratch on him—you will have to deal with my wrath and it will not be pretty,” Cissy replied harshly.

            That seemed about the best he could do with his mother-in-law, so Harry decided to leave it at that and flooed home with his daughter.           Draco was asleep still in Harry’s bed when Harry arrived.

            “What are you doing in here?” Harry asked, Eiona still in his arms.

            “Huh?” Draco asked groggily.

            “I said, what are you still doing in here? I think you should pack up your things and move back in with your mother.”

            “You can’t mean that.”

            “I do and I can. I started the paperwork today. We are officially getting a divorce. I told your mother; she’s expecting you.”

            Draco hadn’t eaten anything all day, too depressed to think about food. His stomach lurched at the word, “paperwork,” and heaved at the words, “officially,” and “divorce.” By the time Harry finished the sentence, Draco was puking into his hands and running towards the toilet. He emptied his stomach contents, which were composed solely of stomach acid, into the toilet and then continued to dry heave. It was the first time he’d thrown up since he gave birth to Eiona.

            After setting Eiona down in her room, Harry following Draco into the toilets. “What’s wrong with you now?” Harry asked exasperated.

            Draco was in no state to answer, because he couldn’t stop his heaving.

            “Are you sick or something?” Harry asked.

            Draco nodded into the bowl.

            “Well go to your mum’s and she’ll take care of you. I’m tired of dealing with you. We’re getting a divorce, so you’re not my problem anymore.”

            Draco’s stomach gave another harsh lurch at that and another tablespoon of stomach acid dribbled out. He spat it out in the bowl and whispered, “Please no.”

            “Right, so I’ll pack you a bag and you will go to your mum’s,” Harry said, turning his back on Draco and going to do as he said.

            Kreacher had a rare bit of lucidity at that moment and brought Draco a cup of anti-nausea tea and a small plate of biscuits and even toast. Draco took them gratefully, slumping down against the bathroom wall to eat and drink. Afterwards he felt sufficiently recovered to leave the loo. He found Harry in their bedroom, packing his things into a rucksack.

            “Harry, you can’t seriously mean you want a divorce. I love you and I thought you loved me too,” Draco said, coming in and sitting on the bed.

            “I loved you, but it wasn’t enough. I’m not happy Draco,” Harry replied, going to Draco’s wardrobe and pulling out robes to shove into the rucksack.

            “Can’t we give it another try? For Ipheion’s sake. I can’t even remember what I did wrong.” Draco looked up quickly, hoping to catch Harry’s eye, but when he didn’t, he looked back down at his hands in his lap.

            “No, I tried to give us another try two nights ago and you didn’t remember it.”

            “You didn’t wake me up! I should be the one mad over that and you don’t see me asking for a divorce, do you?”

            “Why should you be mad?”

            “You fucked me while I was asleep for Salazar’s sake! I know you’re a sex fiend, but you could at least wake me up! I would’ve given you what you wanted. I was upset with you, but I would’ve let you if you needed it that badly.”

            “I’m a sex fiend? Now it’s my problem is it?”

            Draco’s stomach lurched again and he put his hand up to his mouth, but nothing came out. “Could you stop being so angry with me?” he pleaded.

            “Right, because you’re sick. I must watch what I say because poor Draco’s a hypochondriac.”

            “I _am_ sick. Something’s really wrong with me. I’ve been sleeping all the time and tired when I wake up. I keep forgetting whole blocks of time and now I’m sick to my stomach. You’re trying to divorce me because you don’t want to deal with me when I’m sick.”

            “No, there is nothing wrong with you. You make yourself sick. Here, I packed some of your clothes. It will be enough for the night and you can send your elf for the rest in the morning,” Harry said, thrusting the rucksack towards Draco.

            “Please don’t do this Harry, I’m begging you. I’ll go tonight, if that’s what you want, but please don’t file for divorce. At least let me see a healer first. If healer Smith says I’m really sick then you have to believe me that this isn’t my fault.”

            “If he actually finds something wrong with you and fixes it, I’ll consider giving you another chance. Now please go before your mother comes after me.”

            Draco nodded. “Where’s Eiona’s bag?”

            “She’s not going. I’ll drop her off at your mum’s in the morning or she’ll come and pick her up, like she usually does.”

            “You said I could take my baby with me. You s-said you wouldn’t take her a-a-w-” sob, “way f-f-from m-me,” Draco stuttered out through his suddenly pouring tears and sobs.

            “But I didn’t get to see her all day. You can have her in the morning.”

            “I didn’t even get to h-hold her today.” Draco finished the sentence with a huge uncontrollable sob, mucus dripping disgustingly out his nose.

            Harry passed over a handkerchief, the only kind thing he’d done all night. “Fine, you can take her, but I want visitation in the evenings after I get home from work. You can have your little social calls in the evening and spend your mornings with Eiona if you want to see her so badly.”

            Draco nodded, snatched up his bag, and quickly went to the nursery before Harry changed his mind. He shoved a few things in the nappy bag somewhat randomly, grabbed up his daughter, and rushed to the floo in the drawing room. There was a fireplace in her room, but the only one connected to the floo network was in the drawing room. He was just about to throw in the floo powder when Harry called out, “Wait.”

            “Yes?” Draco asked hopefully. Had Harry changed his mind? Was he going to ask them to stay?

            “Wait, I want to say farewell to Eiona,” Harry said, holding out his arms for the child.

            “You’ll give her back?” Draco asked nervously.

            “Yes, I’ll give her back, even though I don’t think you’re a fit parent. Your mum is fit enough, so as long as you stay with her, you can keep Eiona.”

            Draco nodded and handed the toddler over. Harry kissed the blond curls on Eiona’s head and promised her he’d see her tomorrow, before handing her back. Then Draco flooed to the Manor.

            Cissy was there to wipe away the tears and tend to her son. She did the one thing Harry so often failed to do: she fed Draco a proper supper. She took care of her granddaughter and comforted her son. Through the tears, he told her everything that had happened and how Harry was leaving him. She cursed the idiot and told Draco he was better off without Potter, but he didn’t believe her. He didn’t know how he could ever be okay without Harry, because without his husband, his heart was breaking, shattering into a million pieces.

            In the morning, Cissy scheduled an appointment for Draco with Healer Smith. She woke Draco in time for lunch, so that he had the afternoon to play with his daughter. Then when Harry came in the evening, she handed the toddler over, saying only, “You better bring my granddaughter back tonight before bedtime,” and “I don’t know how you sleep at night after what you’ve done to my son’s heart.”

            Harry didn’t really know what to say to that, so he nodded and left. He flooed to the Burrow, so that he could explain to his pseudo-parents what had happened. He wanted to tell them he was getting a divorce before they found out from the papers.

            It was only Molly, Arthur, Hermione, and Ron for dinner that night, Ginny having gone out on a date. Ron was the most supportive, while Molly and Hermione ganged up on Harry, insisting that he needed to give Draco another try. They didn’t seem to believe that Draco had made himself sick, instead assuming the best of the wizard and that Draco was legitimately ill.

            Throughout the evening, Arthur was the quiet one, tending to Eiona while the others talked. He said only, “Harry, this is a very serious matter. You need to think long and hard before you come to a decision. There is a lovely little girl trapped in the middle of this. You owe it to her to make certain that this is what you want before you go through with it.”

            That was probably the best advice Harry got that night, because Molly and Hermione were so much on Draco’s side that he couldn’t even listen to their arguments. Why was it that all the women in his life were taking Draco’s side? He’d even gotten a howler from Dromeda while at work, having apparently been informed of the situation by her sister.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know a lot of you want to slap Harry silly right about now, but I don’t see that happening just yet. Draco still isn’t thinking straight and Cissy is too reserved. We’ll have to wait until her mother Druella next encounters him :)  
> Draco’s healer appointment is next and he will finally find out what’s wrong with him…  
> Please Review!


	10. Chapter10

           “Don’t worry, Draco, my boy. I’ll get you sorted and figure out what’s wrong with you,” Healer Smith proclaimed after Draco finished listing all of his strange symptoms.

            Draco nodded.

            “Now let’s start with a pregnancy test, just because some of the other tests can be dangerous for an unborn child,” Smith continued.

            “I can’t be pregnant. We use contraceptive charms,” Draco protested.

            “Just the same, sometimes it does happen.”

            Then Smith cast the charm and the word, “Pregnant,” appeared in the air.

            “Oh, I’m one for one. Imagine that, getting the diagnosis on the first try? Let’s see if I can get another,” Smith said, before casting another spell, this one to measure blood sugar levels. “Two for two. You have hypoglycemia, Draco, which means your blood sugar is too low. No wonder you’ve been passing out and feeling light headed. With your pregnancy, you need to eat more. Draco?”

            Draco hadn’t responded; hadn’t moved a millimeter since being told he was pregnant. He didn’t hear Smith now, his ears ringing and feeling like they were stuffed with cotton.

            “Draco? Can you hear me?” Smith paused. “Well then we need to get some food in you. Kilpy!”

            An elf appeared suddenly, bowing so low his nose touched the floor. “How may Kilpy be serving Master Fyren?”

            “Bring me tea and biscuits. He’s pregnant, so better make it the nausea tea just in case.”

            The elf bowed and disappeared, a tray with tea and biscuits appearing on the counter moments later.

            Smith gave Draco the cup of tea and had to actually order Draco to drink it in order to break through the cloud Draco’s head was immersed in. After a few sips of tea, the healer forced biscuit after biscuit on Draco until he ate enough to raise his blood sugar back into normal levels.

            With the sugar reentering his system, the fog slowly cleared from Draco’s head. He reached instinctively for his belly, cupping his slight bulge in his hands. “How long?” he asked.

            Smith cast another spell and determined that the answer was two and a half months. The conception was almost two weeks before Draco’s wedding anniversary and the beginning of the symptoms.

            “I’m pregnant,” Draco whispered reverently.

            One of the reasons Draco hadn’t wanted to get divorced from Harry was that he wanted another child. It was sooner than he’d been planning, because he’d wanted to wait at least until Eiona was two before trying, but with the divorce looming, it couldn’t come soon enough. If Harry divorced him now, it wouldn’t matter nearly so much, because he had this child. If it was a boy he’d even sign the papers without much of a fuss, because he’d already have his son and heir. He couldn’t get divorced and then have some other man’s child, because he already had a child by Harry. Purebloods did not look highly on divorce and frowned even more harshly upon having children by more than one man.

            “Yes, which is why it’s so important that you eat regularly and monitor your blood sugar levels,” Smith said, before continuing with a whole list of things a hypoglycemic needed to know and watch out for.

            There was a glycemic index which Draco was to learn to eat by and the blood sugar monitoring spell he needed to learn to cast. It was a lot of information, so Smith gave him a pamphlet with it all written down, so that he wouldn’t forget.

            When the healer finished his speech, Draco interjected, “But why would being pregnant and hypoglycemic affect my memory?”

            “Normally, it wouldn’t, unless your sugar fell dangerously low; sugar is required for proper brain function. With the embryo pulling on your energy reserves, your blood sugar can drop suddenly; much quicker than under normal circumstances. From what you described, there was trauma and a head injury associated with the first instance of memory loss and that likely combined with the low blood sugar. If it occurs again, come in immediately and I’ll run more tests.”

            “Alright, but if it doesn’t?”

            “Then we’ll consider the issue resolved with the head trauma,” Smith concluded and Draco nodded.            “Now, just let me do some additional diagnostic tests, to ensure that there is nothing else wrong with you,” Smith announced.

            Smith performed his tests, while Draco read up on hypoglycemia. There were a few other minor things wrong with Draco, such as that he was a touch dehydrated, malnourished, and anemic. Those could all be fixed with proper diet and potions. The healer made Draco take the first of the potions and drink a large glass of water there in his office. Then Smith performed a few more spells and confirmed that there was one healthy fetus inside Draco’s body.

            Before he left, Draco swore Smith to secrecy and ordered him not to divulge the pregnancy to Harry. Being bound by patient healer confidentiality, Smith agreed. Lastly, Smith gave Draco a few extra pamphlets on hypoglycemia to give his family, so that everyone would know what to watch out for.

            That night when Harry came to pick up Eiona for their nightly visit, Draco stopped him. “Harry, can we talk?”

            Harry nodded, leaving the toddler with her grandmother and following Draco to another sitting room. Draco picked his pamphlets up from the fireplace mantel and sat in an armchair. He motioned for Harry to sit in the chair next to him and Harry did.

            “What did you want to talk about, Draco?”

            “I went to see Healer Smith today.”

            “And? Is there something actually wrong with you this time?”

            “Yes. As a matter of fact, I have hypoglycemia. It explains why I keep feeling like I’m in a fog and then can’t remember things.”

            Draco handed over a pamphlet and Harry stared at it in shock over the fact that there actually was something wrong with his husband; or rather, soon to be ex-husband. He sat there and read the entire description of the illness and it did fit Draco’s symptoms. Draco hadn’t been overreacting after all.

            “How long have you had this? Why didn’t anyone know before? Your mum said you’d get all spacey like that as a child. Have you had this all along?”

            “Possibly; I don’t know how long I’ve had it. I do know, however, the lack of regular elf-cooked meals has made it worse. Healer Smith says that I have to be very careful not to miss a meal and that I should start eating small snack in between meals, to keep my blood sugar up.”

            “Fine, you win. You can bring Dobson over during the day to clean and cook, but I won’t get rid of Kreacher.”

            “What?”

            “I told you that if there was actually something wrong with you, I’d give you another chance. You can come back, but I warn you that if monitoring your blood sugar doesn’t bring about a change in your behavior, then I will refile.”

            “Um…er, no. I’m not telling you this so that you’ll take me back. I just wanted you to know. I’ll agree to the divorce now.”

            Now that he was thinking clearly, Draco was extremely pissed off that Harry bailed on him at the first sign of trouble. He couldn’t bear to go through another pregnancy walking on eggshells around Harry, like he had with Eiona when he’d first moved into Grimmauld Place. Harry hadn’t been awful, but the situation had still been stressful and he didn’t need stress when he was pregnant. That was why he’d changed his mind.

            “Why? I thought you wanted another chance?”

            “I did, but I wasn’t thinking clearly then. When my blood sugar is too low, I just can’t think. It’s like my head is in a fog. Now it’s not.”

            “Now you want a divorce.”

            “Yes.”

            “Why?” Harry asked, still confused. If Draco was as unhappy as he thought Draco was, he wanted to know.

            “Because you betrayed our wedding vows. I vowed ‘til death do us part, but you vowed until we hit the first bump in the road do us part. I honestly love you with all my heart. If you loved me, you would’ve responded to my need and my pleas. You don’t love me and I can’t be with someone who doesn’t love me. My guess is that you were only with me because of the sex and because of our daughter; when it all fell apart, those were the only things you wanted from me. A marriage based on only sex and children cannot last. It’s better that we end it now.”

            Draco was of the opinion that since their relationship was based on sex and children, Harry would take him back for the sake of this new baby, but he didn’t want that. If Harry wanted him back, Harry would have to act without knowing about the baby. That was why he’d chosen not to tell Harry yet, to give Harry a chance to beg him back. If Harry didn’t act before he was showing and couldn’t hide the pregnancy any longer, then it would prove he was right and that they really should go through with the divorce.

            Harry felt like he’d just received a punch to his gut. He couldn’t even believe the things Draco was accusing him of! He loved Draco, truly he did. It wasn’t just sex and Eiona for him; he had honestly wanted to be with Draco for the rest of their lives until Draco had turned into a spazzed out zombie.

            “That’s not true. Give me another chance to prove it,” Harry requested.

            “Now you are the one begging and it’s my turn to shut you out. But you know what Harry?”

            “What?”

            “I love you, so I will hear you out. I’m not going to send you to the Weasleys sick to your stomach with a rucksack and no toothbrush. So Harry, what do you have to say?”

            “I do love you. I want to give our marriage another chance.”

            “Here is the thing Harry: I don’t even know what went wrong. I keep telling you I don’t remember and now I have the proof. So can you start by explaining to me what happened? How did we go from perfectly happy last week to getting a divorce now?”

            And so Harry explained his thought process, from their many squabbles that have been building up for months now, to Draco’s spaced out and sometimes dangerous behavior. He revealed his little spying escapade and what he’d overheard Draco saying to Pansy Parkinson. Then there was the Lucius can of worms, with Harry dreading the upcoming trial and what a nightmare that was going to be. He didn’t mean to go that route, but it slipped out and he said it.

            “Right, so it’s worse than I knew,” Draco replied.

            “So now do you understand why I was unhappy? Why I wanted out?”  
            “No. First of all, I think you are a bloody coward for wanting out at the first sign of trouble. The Sorting Hat would make you a Hufflepuff if you were sorted today.”

            “Wait, me, a coward? You think I’m a coward?” Harry asked incredulously.

            “Yes, I do. I also think you are a bloody hypocrite. All your talk of ending prejudice and you are just as prejudice as any of them! You think my father’s guilty and he deserves prison, just because he was a Death Eater. Well I have news for you: I was a Death Eater too. Some of us make mistakes. Sorry we’re not all perfect like you, but the rest of us are human and sometimes we don’t see a crazy psychopath for what he is until it’s too late.”

            “Look, I’m sorry I said it. I don’t want to argue about your dad. I don’t think he should be let off free and clear, but I don’t want him to be sent to Azkaban either. I want there to be a middle ground where he is punished, but not harshly.”

            “Even after what he’s been through this past year? Even with almost dying?”

            “Yes. I’m sorry he got sick, but he’s on the mend. As long as he’s in remission, his illness doesn’t change things, Draco. I’m sorry, but that’s how I feel.”

            “And I feel like I’ve been lied to throughout our entire marriage, if this is how you really feel. Why didn’t you tell me you don’t support my father’s case? That is something the lawyers need to know.”

            “Because I didn’t want to cause problems between us. I wasn’t going to say anything, either way. I figured that if I just stayed out of it, well and clear, I wouldn’t cause any problems for either side.”

            “Alright, I believe you and I might even be able to forgive you, in time. What I can’t get over has to do with Pansy.”

            “Look, I’m sorry I spied on you, but you have to admit you were acting strangely and I was just trying to figure out what was going on with you.”

            “It’s not the spying I’m upset about.”

            “It’s not?”

            “No, it’s not. It’s the jumping to assumptions without first obtaining the facts and always assuming the worst when it comes to purebloods. Like I just said, you are _extremely_ prejudiced against my people. Just because we made a mistake in supporting a madman doesn’t mean we are all evil.”

            “I didn’t say you were.”

            “No, you just implied it by saying that just because we support a pureblood politician we want the Dark Lord to come back. Well I’ll have you know that your precious Shacklebolt is a pureblood too, as are your Weasleys. What do you think about them now?”

            “But they were on our side of the war…”  
            “So anyone on your side was good and everyone else was evil? What about those who didn’t want to be on either side? What about pureblood wizards like Theo Nott and Charlus Fawley who spoke out for peace? Pansy and I were in the same house in the same year with Theo. We tried to recruit him literally _thousands_ of times, but not _once_ would he budge. Not once would he speak in favor of anything other than peace and coexisting harmoniously. Now he works for the Charlus Fawley campaign. Theo _told_ me that Fawley was part of this secret third party during the war with him. They went around secretly healing people, helping both sides, but meaning to help the people not the war, whether they be witches, wizards, muggles, goblins, elves, merpeople, centaurs, vampires, hags, or werewolves. And you think Fawley, who is on record as having risked his life to save thirteen Order of the Phoenix members, is evil, simply because he wouldn’t fight with you? Because he comes from wizard stock? He wouldn’t fight for anyone you imbecile!”

            “I didn’t know all that.”

            “You wouldn’t. I bet you don’t even know that you are related to him. His grandmother was the sister of Charlus Potter, hence his name. I bet you don’t even know how you are related to Charlus Potter, do you?”

            “He was my grandfather.”

            “I’m surprised you know that. That makes him your second cousin and closest living relative on your father’s side. But because he doesn’t support locking all the purebloods up and throwing away the key, he’s evil,” Draco concluded sarcastically.

            “Wait, no. I’m not very good with politics Draco, I didn’t know. I thought he was li…” Harry trailed off, about to say Lucius’ name again.

            “Like what Harry? Like my father? No, Fawley was never like my father or any of the others in the Dark Lord’s inner circle. You needn’t worry about that.”

            “Then why was there that article in the Prophet about him wanting to let all of the Death Eaters go after we worked so hard to lock them up?”  
            “Because morally rehabilitation is the right thing to do for the people involved and our society as a whole. Because the taxes it would cost to keep them there would bankrupt us all.”

            “Taxes? You support him because you don’t want your taxes raised?”

            “No. You are not listening Potter. Throw off your shield that prevents you from listening to a pureblood way of thinking, just because it’s different from your own.”

            “Okay, I’m trying Draco. I’m honestly doing my best to listen.”

            “Good. The number one reason was humanitarian. That means for the good of humans. I trust you know what humans are.”

            “Yes I know what humans are.”

            “Good. Locking people in jail hurts the people that are locked up and their families who have to make do without them. Just look at Dax Flint’s family: he had a pregnant wife and two young children when he was locked up for twenty years. He was a low level Death Eater, yes, but his crimes were comparatively minor compared to most, which was why he didn’t get life. But he still received twenty years, which means all three of his children will be adults by the time he’s out. Keep in mind this is all for a first offense, because his record was clean before the war.

            “His wife, meanwhile, has to fend for the entire family by herself,” Draco continued. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to provide for three young children by yourself? None of the charity organizations are helping pureblood women left without their Death Eater husbands, I’ve noticed. Her father and brothers are locked up too, her sister-in-laws in the same position. Most pureblood families are completely decimated when it comes to males.

            “What Fawley and those of us who support him want,” Draco further continued, “is to release the lesser criminals out onto house arrest, returning them to their families. They would be forced to take an unbreakable vow saying that they will not leave the grounds of their ancestral homes except under threat of imminent death until the duration of their sentences have been fulfilled. That will allow husbands to return to their wives, sons to their mothers, brothers to their sisters, etcetera.

            “But that is not all it will do.” Harry was beginning to think he’d made a bad move by agreeing to listen to Draco, because Draco just kept on going. “Returning some of the men to their families will actually prevent a third wizarding world. If you lock up all the Death Eaters like they did last time, then you will just embitter the purebloods to your cause. You want us to accept muggles and muggleborns, but when we are bleeding from the loss of our wizards, how do you expect us to do that? We can’t heal as a nation unless the lesser criminals are rehabilitated. The best place for them to be rehabilitated is at home with the people who love them and willingly wish to foot their bills.

            “I don’t think you have any idea how important taxes are to our way of life, Harry,” Draco drawled on. “You’ve hardly been in the working world for two years, after having spent six years at a free school receiving free health care, protected in part for many years by a free prison system keeping some of your enemies locked away. Who do you expect pays for all of that?”

            “The Ministry,” Harry answered, sounding bored, which he was.

            “And where does the Ministry get the money?”  
            “Taxes.”

            “And taxes come from the people. It’s all very costly. Do you know how much it costs to keep a wizard in Azkaban these days?”  
            “No…”

            “It’s ten times the price it was when they had the dementors. The dementors would do it for free, just to have victims to feed off of. But now that the dementors have been put down, we have actual witches and wizards guarding the cells of Azkaban. Those witches and wizards require payment. It costs more to keep one prisoner locked away for one year than it costs to put a muggleborn through Hogwarts. What would you rather have, your precious muggleborns educated or insignificant petty criminals locked up? Because there is only so much money, Harry, and that is the choice that has to be made. Any other solution will bankrupt our whole society.”

            “Why can’t muggleborns pay their own way like everyone else?” Harry asked.

            “No one pays their own way. Magical adults pay for magical children. When a set of magical parents produces a non-magical child, they are taxed just as much as if they’d produced a magical one, with none of the benefits of schooling. When a set of non-magical parents produced a magical child, the parents are not made to pay any taxes, because they are non-magical and not subject to our laws. Muggleborn children are allowed to go to school for free, while the rest of wizarding society foots the bill. Optimally, those children should grow up and then contribute back enough taxes to pay for their education, but that is not always the case. Often they choose to return to their muggle families and pay muggle taxes, wasting the investment the Ministry made on them. That is what makes purebloods so upset about muggleborns attending Hogwarts: our taxes are already too high and we don’t all understand why we should pay. Now do you understand, Harry?” Draco finished.

            “Not entirely, but I will concede that Fawley isn’t a pro-Death Eater and has legitimate reasons for wanting to let some of the criminals out,” Harry answered.

            “Do you also understand why I’m mad?”

            “Because I jumped to conclusions about your political beliefs?”

            “And everything else as well. Would you like to know what you missed in my conversation with Pansy before you woke up?”  
            “Yes.”  
            “Pansy came over because she’d just found out she is pregnant. She doesn’t usually come over. I don’t normally have visitors in the morning. I sleep all morning, because my illness makes me tired. She woke me up to tell me the good news. I told her that I wanted another baby. I wanted to be pregnant again too and then you’d have to wait on me and see that Kreacher was useless.”

            “Oh…”

            “Does that change your opinion of that conversation?”

            “Yes. Draco I had no idea.”

            “About which part? That we’re human too? That much is obvious.”

            “Draco, for someone who just complained that I didn’t give you a chance you are reaming me pretty badly here. What can I do to make you change your mind?”

            “Nothing. I am sick and tired of how you treat me Harry. My friends, my family, and I are always by default wrong when it comes to you. You never give us a chance. I can’t live like that anymore,” Draco answered. “I have heard you out, which is more than you did me, because I love you. But the more we talk, the more it is obvious how prejudice you are against us. I think we should go through with the divorce.”

            “So we get a divorce then,” Harry concluded.

            “Yes. But will you grant me one request?”

            “Possibly. What is it?”

            “Do not let Kreacher cook with Eiona in the house. He’s a safety hazard and I won’t be able to stop worrying if you let him cook.”

            “I already ordered him to stop cooking the night he made the sandwiches.”

            Draco nodded and that was the end of that conversation. Harry took Eiona to Grimmauld Place and Draco went back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so Draco finally tells Harry off!  
> I’m going to visit my brother in California for 3 weeks, starting tomorrow. I’ll finally get to see my new nephew, so I can’t wait! On the other hand, updates might be a few days late if I get busy or stuck without internet.  
> Please review!


	11. Chapter11

             Since Draco wanted to go through with the divorce, Harry let his lawyer proceed. No sooner had Harry signed the papers to start the process and had them officially filed with the Ministry than Narcissa Malfoy paid him a visit. He filed the papers Friday towards the end of his work day and Cissy was there Saturday morning.

            It was a weekend and true to his word, Draco had let Harry have Eiona. Harry had just been feeding his daughter some breakfast at Grimmauld Place; oatmeal, which he cooked himself. The kitchen was a bit of a mess, because he hadn’t gotten a chance to clean. In fact, the house was a mess. It turned out that Draco must’ve been doing some of the cleaning or preventing Kreacher and Eiona from making some of their messes, because without him the place really fell apart. Kreacher had actually used applesauce to scrub the tub, the dozy elf, and now there was a mass of black ants swarming the antique tub. That was first on Harry’s list of things to clean.

            “Cissy? What are you doing here?” Harry asked, looking around at the pile of pots, pans, and dishes in the sink, the full garbage bin with its flies, the scorch marks above the stove, and then at the marbles on the floor. “Careful, Eiona got into a vase of marbles and let them loose.” The place was filthy.

            “My I have a seat? I have something I would like to talk to you about Harry,” Cissy answered, toeing aside a marble that was in her way. Harry nodded and she sat, transferring the pile of linens that were on the bench, which were left by Kreacher, to the table. “I have been informed that you went ahead and filed divorce papers yesterday.” She said it like an accusation.

            “Um, yes, I did.”

            “Are you happy without my son?”

            “What? Why?”  
            “Because you listed your unhappiness as one of your primary reasons for divorcing my son. So I ask again Harry, are you happy now that Draco is out of your life? Is your life better? Is it easier? More fun? Is there more sex? Less work?”  
            “No, none of that. I’m not any happier now than I was when he was here causing problems.” In fact, Harry downright missed Draco. It was so hard to walk away from Malfoy Manor with just Eiona yesterday. It was his birthday weekend and he ought to have his husband with him to help him celebrate. It was one of the days of the year when he was guaranteed sex, but he wouldn’t be getting any sex for his birthday this year.

            “And you blame him for your unhappiness. I think you need to examine your situation more carefully. I don’t think my son’s illness on its own could cause your unhappiness.”

            “It didn’t. I need another elf; that’s a big part of it,” Harry admitted.

            “That is what my son said all along.”

            “I know. Is that all you wanted to talk about? I don’t blame Draco for this divorce. It’s just as much my fault as it is his.”

            “That is utterly untrue. It is entirely your fault. My son has done _nothing_ to deserve the misery you have bestowed upon him. Nothing, except love _you_.” Cissy’s words were scathing, but her face was icy as her eyes bored into Harry.

            “Look, I’m sorry and I tried to apologize to Draco. I said I’d give him another chance.” Harry’s arms rose as he spoke, emphasizing his frustration.

            “It is _you_ who needs another chance.”

            “I know, I know. But he wouldn’t hear it,” Harry said and Cissy cut him off.

            “Again, untrue. You wouldn’t hear him out, but I know for a fact that he heard you out. He just did not like what he heard.”

            “Right. Well he didn’t want to give it another go. I don’t see what point there is diddling about the bush, so I filed the papers. I’m sure he’ll be much happier as soon as this is all squared away.”

            “He is miserable without you. This situation is entirely unfair to him.”

            “Look, I’m sorry, but what more do you want me to do?”

            “I want you to think very hard about this divorce. Lucius and I will not give our approval for you to marry our son a second time. I have reason to believe that there is something you are not aware of that will have you changing your mind. Draco has forbidden me to tell you, because he fears you will stay with him for these other reasons, and not because you love him. So if you love my son, Harry, I strongly urge you to think long and hard about this travesty you have started before it goes any further,” Cissy warned.

            “Okay, I will. Thank you Cissy. Is there any chance you will tell me what it is without his approval?”  
            “None. I quite agree; you take my son back without knowing about this extenuating circumstance or you lose him forever. I must go; Draco will never forgive me if he knows I’ve come.”

            With that, Cissy turned on the spot and disapparated away, leaving Harry to think and finish feeding Eiona. He had his entire birthday weekend to think. The Weasley stopped by and helped him clean the place up as a favor to him, instead of throwing him the usual party. This year he was in no mood for a party and what he needed was cleaning, so that’s what they did. It was a lot of manual labor with nothing else for him to think about other than his divorce. Did he love Draco? Was that why his chest felt like it was aching and he was miserable without the wizard? Now that Draco had a diagnosis, might he turn back to his normal self?

            Draco already seemed more like his old self, but Harry didn’t know if he was normal all day. Even through the worst of it, Draco had had a period of lucidity each day and it just might be that that period now corresponded to the time Harry was to pick Eiona up. Draco certainly was never around when Harry returned their daughter, Cissy taking the child from Harry each night. Cissy always said Draco was tired and sleeping, which Harry thought was a bit suspicious. If Draco was better, why was he still sleeping all of the time? Of course Hermione had an answer to that, insisting that Draco’s body must just need the time to recover from the illness.

            There was no way for Harry to know for sure whether he’d be happier with Draco back unless they tried it. Thus Harry returned Eiona early Sunday evening, at five O’clock, because he knew Draco was usually still awake at that time. Sure enough, Draco and Cissy were in the dining room with Dromeda and Teddy of all people. The dining room was opulent with a golden crystal chandelier just as big as the one in the main drawing room and gold-veined marble floors. The feet and legs of the ancient walnut table were carved into the shape of griffin limbs with the claws out, matching high-backed chairs surrounding it.

            Harry hadn’t seen Dromeda since the divorce thing started and she gave him a scowl worthy of any pureblood when she saw him.

            “Eiona!” Draco exclaimed, standing up quickly at the sight of his daughter. He rose too fast and had to stop to steady himself, because he was dizzy.

            “Are you okay Draco?” Harry asked, stepping forward to catch Draco should he fall. Harry still had Eiona in his arms, so he put his daughter down, freeing his hands.

            “Yes, just a little dizzy,” Draco replied, sitting back down. “Come here sweetie; Father missed you very much.”

            “I see that. You’ve invited another toddler over,” Harry said.

            “Well now that I don’t have to deal with you and your nonsense, I have more time for my aunt and cousin again,” Draco replied.

            “Harry, why don’t you and Eiona sit down and join us for dinner. I’m sure Vile Thing will be able to scrounge up extra plates,” Cissy suggested sweetly.

            Harry always hated the name of the Malfoy’s main house elf. Vile Thing had come from the Blacks, was related to Kreacher, and had been named in a similar vein. She had two children from her late husband Dobby, Dobson and Dotty, the former finally old enough to work on his own, the latter still in training to be a proper elf. There were also two more elves in the family: Dobby’s parents Doddy and Bobbie. Doddy, Dobby’s father, made computer chips which the family sold to muggles for a great profit. Bobbie, Dobby’s mother, stayed primarily to the kitchen and helped with the cleaning when she wouldn’t be seen. Bobbie was an ugly sight, having come to the Malfoys from the Macnair family, who were fond of disfiguring their elves with a family brand across the face. Compared to the Macnairs and the Blacks, the Malfoys were downright civilized in the treatment of their elves.

            It was supper time and Harry hadn’t eaten yet, his nerves about speaking with Draco getting the best of him. The delicious smell of Bobbie’s cooking made Harry’s stomach growl, so he sat down and agree to dine. Draco sat Eiona on his lap until Dobson return with a second highchair for the toddler. Then Vile Thing appeared from the kitchen with two additional plates of food.

            The food was good, but Harry was still nervous and couldn’t finish it. Instead he put his fork down when Draco did and asked, “Can we talk Draco?”

            “Yes. Mother, I trust you and Aunt Dromeda will be alright with the children,” Draco replied.

            “Yes, go ahead dear,” Cissy answered. “Come along Eiona, let us play with Teddy.”

            Cissy and Andy led the children away in the direction of the playroom, while Draco led Harry back to his sitting room. The room was decorated with an ancient grey and green Kidderminster carpet, green walls, and dragon themed tapestries lining the walls. It was a comfortable room, although it still managed to look old and expensive with perfectly placed eye catchers, such as the emerald green Ming vase depicting a moving Chinese dragon on the stone fireplace mantel.

            Draco sat in a comfy grey armchair, pulling a throw blanket over himself and covering up his growing waistline. Harry noticed that Draco was fatter, but chalked the weight gain up to the wizard’s new diet; he supposed that any diet that called for constantly eating would cause one to put on a few pounds.

            “So what did you want to talk to me about?” Draco asked, his demeanor cool and calm.

            “First, I want to know if you are alright,” Harry started.

            “I’m fine.”

            “Are you sure? You were dizzy at dinner…”

            “It’s the anemia. I’m on a potion to correct it.”

            “Anemia? You didn’t tell me you were anemic.”

            “I found out at the same time I found out about the hypoglycemia. I was also dehydrated at the time, but that’s been cleared up. Is there anything else you would like to know about my health?” Draco left out the mention of the malnutrition, because that was hard to explain without mentioning the pregnancy and he was not under any circumstance about to tell Harry about the pregnancy.

            “No, but…” Harry trailed off, trying to figure out where to start.

            “Yes?”

            “I’ve discovered that it wasn’t you making the messes. I’m sorry I blamed you.”

            “Apology not accepted.”  
            “Why not?”

            “Because you were a right sodding prick about it. You _knew_ I didn’t know how to clean and I _asked_ to bring my own elf over. I tried my best, but you still complained. Buy your own elf and clean up your stinking house. Otherwise, don’t come asking for my forgiveness again.”

            “But Kreacher…”

            “Can move to the attic and die for all I care. How many times do I have to tell you that you can have more than one elf in a house?”

            “Yes, but the Manor is huge; Grimmauld Place is much smaller.”

            “Take my advice or leave it Harry, I don’t care. It’s not my problem now that we are getting a divorce. You are tiring me and it’s almost my new bedtime, so if there isn’t anything else you want, you may show yourself out.”

            “That’s something else I wanted to talk to you about: would you consider giving us another go? I’ve had time apart to think about it and I really do miss you. I’m miserable alone with just Eiona and Kreacher.” Harry tried his best to convey that he was sincere, but he was unsure of himself, not know if it’d be enough to get Draco to come back.

            “And I’m miserable with my shattered heart, but I don’t see what good could possibly come of sticking a plaster on it and pretending everything is alright.” Draco’s tone was harsh, but not scathing.

            “Draco, I’ve put a lot of thought into what you said and I’m willing to have a more open mind about purebloods from now on. I’m sorry I overreacted and assumed the worst and I won’t do it again. Next time I will ask you for clarification before jumping to conclusions.”

            “I’ve had time to think and that’s not the only issue that bothers me. What about how you refused to take care of me when I was sick? You kept telling me I was overreacting and that there was nothing wrong. At least if you’d encouraged me to see a healer instead of jumping down my throat when I had memory loss I would’ve been diagnosed sooner. Do you have any idea how dangerous hypoglycemia is?”

            “Ah, yeah, I pulled you off the balcony.” Harry was almost about to ask if Draco remembered, but then recalled that Draco had amnesia concerning that night and the two after it.

            “See, just like that. I put myself in a dangerous position, because I wasn’t thinking straight. You should’ve taken me to hospital and found out what was wrong with me, instead of leaving me on the floor to wake up alone and confused.”

            “But I saved you.”

            “You pulled me off the ledge, but I still could have died from dangerously low blood sugar.”

            “How was I to know? Your own mum said that acting spacey was normal for you and to just put you to bed.”

            “Healer Smith now thinks my childhood fits were likely undiagnosed hypoglycemia. They stopped before he took over the practice from his father; he thinks his father didn’t cast all the right diagnostic tests. My mother was relying on an old diagnosis and she was wrong. She is fallible Potter, same as anyone else. I still should have been taken in for a checkup in the morning.”

            “Why didn’t you schedule yourself one and go in. I work all day.”

            “Because I wasn’t thinking clearly. Why didn’t you ask my mother for help if you couldn’t handle it?” Draco’s tone was accusatory.

            “Because I didn’t realize there was anything wrong with you. I’m sorry. We know you have a serious condition now and I won’t let such a lapse happen again,” Harry replied, starting to feel the exasperation set in. It seemed like all he was saying today was sorry.

            “Won’t you? Maybe you’ll get help if you recognize the symptoms, but what if it’s something different next time? What if I have a heart attack or a stroke and you don’t take me to St. Mungo’s?”

            “If it’s something serious, of course I’d take you in right away!” Harry protested.

            “What if it’s not something serious? What if it’s just the flu or the common cold? Remember I was sick last winter with that flu and you left me to my own devices while you went off to work?”  
            “Yes, but you went to your mum’s and she took care of you.”

            “It will never be you taking care of me, will it? You can spare all of the time in the world to chase bad guys, but you can’t take a day off from work to tend a runny nose and a fever.”

            “Sorry, I’m not used to playing nursemaid. I didn’t know it bothered you so much or I would’ve stayed home. I just thought my sick days were better spent on holiday.”

            “It didn’t bother me so much until now. I told you I couldn’t remember and you still left me alone the next morning to wake up alone and confused again. Do you have any idea how that made me feel?” Draco asked, face scrunched up like he was about to cry. Then he did cry, hiding his sobs behind his hands, his pregnancy hormones getting to him.

            “I’m so sorry Draco. I didn’t know,” Harry said, standing up and going over to put a comforting hand on Draco’s shoulder.  
            Draco didn’t respond, other than to take a large gasping breath and let out another sob. He continued to cry for several minutes, during which Harry wondered when the emotional theatrics would stop. He’d hoped that they’d disappear now that Draco’s his blood sugar was being monitored, but apparently he was wrong.

            After a few minutes, Draco seemed to be calming down. “Will you show me how to cast the spell that measures your blood sugar level? You know, just in case?” Harry asked in order to distract Draco and Draco nodded.

            Draco pulled himself together, staving off the tears as best as he could. It took him a few more minutes, but he eventually managed. He then taught Harry the spell and how to interpret it.

            “So you are in the normal range right now,” Harry concluded, studying the numbers on Draco’s blood sugar chart. Draco nodded and Harry wondered what was up with the tears, if it wasn’t Draco’s blood sugar. He decided it must be some side effect that took longer to go away after the episodes and also that he shouldn’t mention it. “Will you come back and give me another chance Draco, if I promise to do a better job watching after your health? I won’t accuse you of overreacting again, I promise. Instead I’ll schedule you an appointment with Healer Smith and see that you go.”

            “You are making a lot of promises Harry and I don’t think you can keep them.” Draco was calm and collected again.

            “I will do my very best to try. Isn’t that enough?”

            “No, not entirely.”

            “What else do you want from me? Whatever it is, I’ll do it, Draco, I swear to Merlin I will.”

            “Have you ever noticed Harry that I’ve gone out of my way to be nice to your friends and family?”

            “Sort of. You were alright with them before, you know, before the incident with Victoire.”

            “I was being nice even then. Nasty would’ve been me ripping the veela spawn’s finger off in return.”

            Harry almost accused Draco of overreacting again, but held his tongue just in time. Instead he chuckled, shook his head, and said, “Alright.”

            “Well you never once returned the favor. You have only met my very closest relatives; my mother and my grandparents. You never even agreed to so much as a family dinner with the Smiths or Rosiers and the only time you have all been in the same room together was at our wedding. How many family dinners have I gone to with the _extended_ Weasley clan? Why couldn’t you ever do the same for me?”

            “I’ll do it now. Name the date and time and I’ll be there, even if I have to take time off work.”

            “What if I asked you to go, without agreeing to take you back? Would you go just to get to know my family? Your daughter’s family?”

            Harry almost said no, but bit his tongue, before nodding. “I will. Just tell me when.” This could be his chance to prove he could act civilly to Draco’s family. If it went well, Draco might just agree to give him another chance.

            “I will ask my mother to arrange something, but you know, it’s not just my family you have snubbed. You were always rude to my friends when they came over. Towards the end, Daphne and Milli wouldn’t even come over. Last month, when I invited Astoria over for the first time, she refused, because of the complaints she’d heard about you from her sister. Pansy and Blaise only came over so often, because they could come during the day, while you were away. Do you know how annoying it is that my friends won’t come over, because you can’t behave yourself?”

            “No, I don’t. I’m sorry. I’ll try to be nicer to them from now on,” Harry promised.

            “I’m very tired. I wish to go to bed now. Kindly see yourself out,” Draco said with a yawn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Harry has finally realized that Draco isn’t the problem; that’s a start. Up next there will be the family dinner that Harry just promised to attend.   
> Please Review!


	12. Chapter12

            Two weeks later Cissy arranged a huge family dinner at Malfoy Manor. Both the Smith and Rosier families, Draco’s closest relatives on the Malfoy and Black side, respectively were invited so that Harry could meet them. The Blacks were also attending; Draco’s Aunt Dromeda, Cousin Teddy, Grandmother Druella, and Grandfather Cygnus. Harry knew the Blacks, which meant that besides Draco, Eiona, and Cissy, he knew four of the guests. He felt like a fish out of water in the middle of the sea of purebloods.

            It was to be one of those ridiculously formal dinners which Harry hated. He’d been forced to attend one shortly after the war to honor him and the other war heroes. It had been awkward and blatantly obvious then that he didn’t know proper pureblood table manners and so he’d refused the next several invitations to fancy dinners he’d received. After Eiona was born though, Draco had wanted to go to the fancy dinners and had insisted Harry take him. Draco had tutored Harry on proper table etiquette so that his table manners were now passible. That didn’t mean Harry wasn’t nervous about the prospect of another formal dinner, especially one without Draco on his arm, because he was.

            Harry was determined to be on his best behavior for the day, seeing this as his one last chance to prove himself to the father of his beloved daughter. He dressed in his nicest dress robes, the ones he knew Draco liked best, and had a fresh haircut. He even let his new house elf, Hissy, shine his shoes. He’d just purchased her in hopes of pleasing Draco,

            Hissy had been chosen because she was Dobson’s age, the two elves had taken an interest in one another, and she was from a lenient family with only one elf. There was a whole confusing choosing process which had gone on in order to determine that she was the best elf for the job. Harry had never purchased a house elf before and was as such unfamiliar with the process, which had given him an excuse to call on Draco to help him.

            Elves are bought and sold when they are young and first come into their teenaged years, so that they can be molded to suit their new owner. As such, the transaction occurs before they mate. It is always best to choose a new elf to match any unmated young elves in the family, so that they can eventually marry and produce more elves. It was only cruel or cheap owners who refused to pair up their elves, because married elves were happier. Thus with Dobson as the only unmated young elf in the Malfoy family, the new elf had been chosen based on his preferences. Harry of course used it all as an excuse to spend more time with Draco, who he sorely missed.

            Draco kept saying there was more to choosing an elf than just finding a mate for Dobson, such as could the elf in question perform the duties required of it and did the elf’s former training mesh with the environment of the new house. Taking an elf from a lenient family and selling it into a strict family or the other way around was a recipe for disaster. Taking an elf trained to farm and making it serve the duties of a butler or cooking elf was also not a good idea. Even whether the elf was from a large household with multiple elves so that duties were split up, or few elves so that one elf had to perform many duties, was a factor.

            It was all too much for Harry and he ultimately begged Draco to choose his new elf for him. He was getting the elf for Draco and Eiona anyway, still hopeful that Draco would come back, so it was important it was an elf Draco would want. Draco had picked Hissy and so far Harry had been happy with her; Dobson too, if the number of elf dates the pair of them went on was anything to go by.

            Harry kept Eiona in his arms as the party guests arrived. He stood next to Draco and Cissy in the entrance hall and greeted Draco’s extended family, names going in one ear and out the other, simply because there were so many new people. He’d seen them all at his wedding last year, but he hadn’t been paying attention to the guests then; his eyes had been only for Draco that night.

            The first two guests to arrive were Cissy’s parents. Druella Black with her husband Cygnus by her side, greeted Draco, Cissy, and Eiona warmly, before greeting Harry with a slap across the face. She hit hard for such a little old lady.

            “Ow!” Harry cried, holding his reddened flesh in his left hand, instinctively reaching for his wand with his right. Only her age and the fact that she was Draco’s grandmother kept his fingers from pulling it out and hexing her.

            “I warned you not to hurt my Draco. If I was a decade younger that would have been an Avada Kedavra. I considered a number of other forms of first degree murder, but ultimately there was too large of a risk that you’d survive,” Mrs. Black said in her graveled yet tinkling voice with a shrug to her frail shoulders. “Not that I mind getting caught, mind you. It’s the chance that you’d live long enough to cause additional problems for my family that I’m concerned about. Hurt my grandson again and I will personally attempt your savage murder, despite the odds against my success.”

            At first Harry didn’t know whether it was a joke or if the old woman was serious, until she said the last sentence, proving that she was indeed serious. He didn’t know quite what to say, the only obvious response being out of the question, given that he was doing this to impress Draco. He settled for biting his tongue and holding back every thought that occurred to him.

            Thankfully Cygnus broke the tension by saying, “Come along dear,” and leading his wife inside.

            All of their eyes followed the two elderly people as they walked further into the house. Draco snickered and Cissy smirked. Harry opened his mouth to say something, but before he could devise an appropriate comment that wouldn’t get him in trouble, more guests arrived. Thus they turned back to their greetings.

            Dobson, Dotty, and Vile Thing showed the guests through to a large sitting room used for formal occasions. Once the last guests were through the door, Harry and the Malfoy family followed. The whole thing was in the east wing of the house on the ground floor; an area Harry had never seen used before. There were posh sofas and ornate armchairs lining the purple walls, but mostly the guests stood in clusters and chatted as they waited to go through to the fancy dining room for dinner.

            Standing by Draco’s side, Harry was holding their daughter and trying to stop her from grabbing an expensive looking potted plant. It was just out of her reach, but the branches moved in an intricate dance, threatening to gyrate to within the toddler’s grasp at any moment. A string of intricate ivory colored blooms with a delicate look to them came especially close to the outstretched fingers and he pulled her back just in time to ovoid destruction. There were many such potted plants in this room, giving it a pleasant floral smell and an exotic feel.

            Harry was trying to pay attention to the adults as well, but he was having trouble keeping track of it all. Draco was talking to his male cousins who were of a similar age. The wizards had split themselves into two groups and this was the younger group. The topic of conversation was the upcoming election, which was a subject Harry already knew was a prickly one between him and Draco. He was still leaning towards reelecting Kingsley out of loyalty to the man, but Draco had good arguments in favor of Fawley. He was pants at politics, so he kept his mouth shut and tried to fit in and remember who all these people were.

            Zacharias Smith was the easy one out of the group, since he’d been in Harry’s year. The other blond one was Zacharias’ cousin. The good looking dark haired one was Adrian Pucey. Harry had thought Adrian looked familiar and was certain the wizard was a Slytherin. He mentioned this to Draco, who had informed him that the second cousin had indeed played Chaser for the Slytherin Quidditch team. The weird one in the group with the pimple face, dark hair, and standoffish personality was a Rosier. Harry couldn’t remember the Rosier boy’s name, but he remembered Draco saying that Rosier was two years behind them in school and that Rosier’s Death Eater father had died before he was born.

            Fyren Smith, Draco’s healer and Zacharias’ father, was amongst the crowd. He was chatting with Cygnus Black and two other old men Harry didn’t know. Together, the four of them made up the entire older wizard population. There was a definite gap in wizard ages in the room, with Fyren Smith being the only middle aged wizard present. One of Draco’s cousins was a few years older than him and then there were no wizards at all until Fyren. Then there was another large gap in ages between Fyren and the three old men. Harry knew that the gap was due to men who had died in the first and second Wizarding Wars and those who were now convicted Death Eaters in Azkaban. It was sad really, that so many men were gone.

            In addition to the wizards, there was a much higher population of witches. For every wizard, there were two or three witches. The middle aged witches were talking in a group; Cissy Malfoy, Mrs. Pucey, Mrs. Rosier, two Mrs. Smiths, an unmarried Ms. Smith, and a witch whose last name Harry didn’t know, other than that she was related on the Rosier side and her husband was dead. The older women were in another group; Druella Black, the elder Mrs. Smith, and two old lady Rosiers, one of which had lost her entire family in the first war, her three sons never having a chance to produce heirs before they took the mark.

            There were two younger witch groups, one composed of half a dozen witches still in Hogwarts or newly graduated and around Harry’s age. Then there was the slightly older young group who should’ve been getting married and planning weddings, only all of their boyfriends and husbands were either dead or in Azkaban. There were about half a dozen witches in the latter group, two of which with children on their hips and rings on their left fingers, signifying that they at least had been married. They were most likely widows.

            Finally there was a group of about four children younger than Hogwarts age running around the room playing some game Harry didn’t recognize. Harry had considered letting Eiona down to play with them, but Draco had told him that all children under the age of five were to stick by their parents during these events. That was probably for the best, because Harry didn’t particularly want Eiona playing with the two fatherless Death Eater spawn on the widows’ hips, who were also too young to be let down.

            “What do you think, Potter?” Zacharias Smith asked, looking at Harry.

            Harry had by this point lost all track of the conversation. “Er, I was just thinking that I should go say hello to your dad. You know, thank him for finding out what was wrong with Draco?” Harry wasn’t at all sure of this excuse, but Draco was eyeing him pointedly and he knew he had to show himself to be making an effort. “Er, excuse me.”

            And so Harry walked with Eiona over to the other group of wizards and made polite chatter with them. He then remembered that one of them was Mr. Rosier, Druella’s brother. The other looked like the Smiths, so he assumed he was the other Healer Smith.

            As soon as there was a break in the chatter, Harry asked of the younger healer, “Er, Healer Smith, could I speak with you a minute?”

            “Certainly Harry, let’s just go over to the corner, or is this a private matter? We could go through to the other sitting room,” Smith replied.

            “Well I just wanted to thank you for finding out what’s wrong with Draco.”

            “In that case, we better go through. Follow me.”

            Smith led Harry down a few hallways to another sitting room that Harry hadn’t seen used before. Malfoy Manor was too large to keep track of, filled with a myriad of little used rooms. There were lots of delicate and or breakable looking objects in the room, so Harry kept Eiona in his lap, restraining her from exploring as she normally would. The toddler fussed, so while they spoke, Harry used his wand to keep up a constant display of fun lights for her to watch.

            “I’m glad you brought this up Harry, because there is something I would like to discuss with you regarding young Draco’s health,” Smith said, taking the seat next to Harry.

            “Yes? He’s going to be alright, isn’t he?”

            “Now he is, but I do not think you fully appreciate the danger you have put him in.”

            “Me?”

            “Yes, you. He described to me an incidence when he started vomiting uncontrollably and you left him there. Tell me, were you planning on going back for him or were you just going to leave him be all night?”

            “Well he was fine, wasn’t he? It was just a tiny bit of vomit. He came to my room when he’d cleaned himself up.”

            “No, he came to your room after your elf brought him anti-nausea tea and gingersnaps. He did not stop vomiting on his own. If it hadn’t been for what he describes as an utterly useless elf, he would have continued to vomit until he passed out from dehydration and low blood sugar.”

            “Sorry, I didn’t know.” Harry was starting to feel like he was saying that phrase a lot when it came to Draco. He was getting the inkling that he needed to change that. Draco was his husband and if he wanted Draco back, it was time he knew.

            “Well now you do. The next time you leave him by himself to vomit, I will report you for spousal abuse. As an Auror, you must be aware that it is at least negligence to leave your spouse in need of medical treatment while you turn your back. And from his account, you left him in need of medical attention on multiple occasions.”

            “Multiple? No, he only ever threw up the once.”

            “I am referring to the three times he woke up alone unable to remember the night before.”

            “Look, I promise I’ll do a better job of taking care of him, if he ever lets me. I didn’t understand that he was actually sick. I assumed he was making himself sick or overreacting. Now that I know, I’ll be more careful.”

            “See that you are. Now we must return. Dinner will be served shortly,” Smith concluded, standing up and heading back to the sitting room where the others were chatting.

            Harry followed with Eiona, taking the opportunity to pass her off to Cissy when he passed her and the group of middle aged witches. Vile Thing soon announced dinner and they took their assigned places at the very large table. It was similar to the table in the smaller dining room, only much longer with a silver serpent inlaid into the walnut. As ornate and upscale as the other dining room was, this one was even more so, with a moving crystal bust of Armand Malfoy in the corner. Instead of one central crystal chandelier, there were three lined up length wise above the table. The large silver framed paintings on the walls looked like they could have been Van Goghs, except for the fact that the painted objects moved.

            Draco and Eiona were at one end of the table with the other mothers with young children, while Harry was on the other end, sandwiched between Old Mr. Rosier and the young pimple-faced Rosier.

            Harry’s seating arrangement had been chosen to put him in between the two people in the room he had the least in common with, he was certain. He couldn’t possibly like anyone _less_ than he liked these two. Mr. Rosier was a plump glutinous oaf who had only been saved from a life as a Death Eater by his advanced age and prodigious gut. His sons and son-in-laws were all dead Death Eaters and his only remaining grandson, Pimple-Faced Rosier, only escaped Azkaban because he was too young to join the Death Eaters. Pimple-Faced Rosier never said a word, while the old man said far too many.

            Old Mr. Rosier blathered on with his pureblood nonsense and Harry did his best to hold his tongue, biting his lip to hold back what he really thought. Rosier said how Kinsley Shacklebolt was destroying the world. Then it was what a shame that his Death Eater grandson was in Azkaban instead of running the Ministry. Followed by the horror of a society in which muggleborns had equal status and rights as purebloods. And then Rosier went off on how awful Fawley was for wanting peace between purebloods and muggleborns and Fawley’s policy of putting Death Eaters on house arrest when they really should be exulted, venerated, and let go, free and clear.

            Harry actually tasted blood as he bit down too hard on his lip. He licked the blood away and finally couldn’t help but to say something to this horrid old man. “It is your way of thinking sir, which has driven our nation into not one but two wizarding wars. Do you not think even a little bit that it is time for peace? Are you so eager to send your one remaining grandson off to fight and die?” Harry asked, trying his best to say only things Draco couldn’t find fault with. At least half of it Draco himself had said to Harry when exulting Fawley for Minister over Shacklebolt.

            “Well yes, we will have to have peace for a time. We need to get our numbers back. It will take at least a generation,” Rosier replied.

            “Excuse me,” Harry said putting down his napkin and abandoning his half eaten meal. His cheeks were flushed with embarrassment as he made his way down the very long table full of purebloods to where Draco and Eiona were seated. “Draco, I’m sorry, but I cannot stand that man another moment. May I please sit with you?”

            “Certainly,” Draco replied, summoning Dotty forward from where the young elf was standing against the wall of the room. “Dotty, please move Auror Potter’s place setting over here as we discussed earlier.”

            There just happened to be a spare bit of space on the other side of Eiona and Harry realized then that Draco had never expected him to survive the entire meal next to the Rosiers.

            Harry’s chair and place settings, including his half eaten plate of some fancy dish he couldn’t pronounce were transported with the snap of Dotty’s fingers to fill the empty space. It was done almost perfectly, except the knife had moved an inch from where he’d left it. Dotty rushed in to fix it, before allowing Harry to sit down.

            While Harry stood there waiting, he couldn’t help but notice the way Draco’s stomach was pouched out in the sitting position. Draco was fatter than the last time they’d talked, clearly having gained even more weight. Draco’s robes were baggy to disguise it, but Harry could still tell. He wondered if Draco would keep gaining, or if his husband would eventually plateau out at a new heavier weight. Draco was very skinny before, so Harry figured it wouldn’t hurt the wizard to put on ten or twenty pounds. Extra weight might even help regulate Draco’s blood sugar and for all he knew, Healer Smith had ordered the weight gain. Thus he resolved to keep quiet on the matter unless Draco seriously started packing on the pounds.

            “You knew I wouldn’t be able to stand him, didn’t you?” Harry asked sitting down.

            “ _I_ can’t stand the man. Not even his granddaughter Fonda here can stand him. Can you Fonda?” Draco asked turning to the witch on his other side. She was one of the two witches with young children, her three year old positioned on her other side from Draco. Dromeda with Teddy were after her and the other young mother with child after them.

            “Certainly not,” Fonda agreed. “Although, it has provided us all good entertainment watching and speculating on when you would crack.” She said it with a smirk, before letting out a bit of laughter.

            Everyone close enough to hear her laughed too, attesting to the truth of her statement that they had all been watching Harry.

            “Draco, I honestly tried. Why couldn’t you put me next to someone I had a shot with?” Harry asked hurt.

            “Because I wanted to see what you would make of my most unpleasant relatives. You should be flattered that I didn’t assume you would make a fool of yourself next to anyone other than Mother and Aunt Dromeda.”

            “Er, thanks. So how badly did I flunk your little test?” Harry asked apprehensively. He’d wanted so much to do well that he was feeling very disappointed with himself.

            “On the contrary, you passed.”

            “I did?”

            “Yes, you did not say anything the rest of us have not already said to Dear Great Uncle Reve.”

            Reve, so that was old Rosier’s first name. Harry tried to stow that fact away, in case there was a quiz later.

            “Oh thank Merlin. Draco, you don’t know how hard I tried to not punch him in the nose. I wanted you to see that I could behave around your family.”

            “And you did. Now finish eating that, because we are waiting on you for the next course,” Draco replied.

            Harry did as instructed. For the rest of the meal he made small talk with Draco and Fonda regarding their children. Fonda’s son was a year older than Eiona and not too far off from Teddy in age. She and Dromeda had agreed to a playdate with their boys and she was trying to convince Draco to join them with Eiona.

            “I can’t make any guarantees that I will be feeling up to it. I haven’t been feeling too well lately, but I could certainly send Eiona with my mother,” Draco replied, just as dessert was served.

            There was a bit more benign chatter during the meal. Harry had assumed Fonda’s husband was a Death Eater and that she’d spout some racist nonsense, but she never did. When she did speak of her late husband, she simply referred to him as “foolish.”

            After dessert, they migrated back out to the sitting room. There were more conversations going on, but mostly the guests were starting to leave. Harry was called over to Draco and Cissy’s sides by the fireplace, Cissy with Eiona this time, to say farewell to their departing guests. The ones who chose not to use the fireplace simply apparated away from the spot after saying their farewells.

            A few strugglers stayed to chat with Cissy and Dromeda, so Draco led Harry and Eiona upstairs to Draco’s side of the house. Draco lay down on a chase, closing his eyes, even though it was only half past six. Harry let Eiona run free, watching the toddler as she took off gleefully at top speed. Unlike the other rooms, this one was charmed to be toddler proof.

            “Harry, I wanted to thank you for tonight. It meant a lot to me to finally have a meal with the entire family together,” Draco said, eyes once more open, but his face showing obvious signs of being tired.

            “I didn’t know you wanted it. We can go to all the fancy dinner parties at your mum’s that you want; holidays, even”

            “Harry, you do know that I am not going back to Grimmauld Place with you, don’t you?”

            “Well not tonight of course. You’ll need time to pack.” Harry’s hopes were back up, after the second half of the evening had gone so smoothly.

            “Not ever.”

            “Huh? No, but Draco! Er, I did what you asked, didn’t I?”

            “Yes, you did. But it’s too little too late. Don’t you see?”

            “No, Draco, I don’t see.”

            “My heart is already shattered. I loved you, I trusted you, and you failed miserably. One night of good behavior cannot erase all that. It’s not enough to glue the shattered fragments back together. I can’t be with you anymore,” Draco said.

            It occurred to Harry then that this divorce really was happening. Despite acting civilly for one night, it was not enough to persuade Draco to change his mind. And so the divorce would go forward, even though it felt like a stab in the gut and a stomping on the chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally Druella got to say her peace. I’m thinking for the next chapter I might jump ahead to when Draco tells Harry about the baby. What do you think? Is there anything else that should happen first?  
> Please review! Your feedback is much appreciated!


	13. Chapter13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’d like to thank everyone who reviewed the last chapter!

            Draco waited as long as he could before telling Harry about the pregnancy, hiding his bump under baggy clothes. He was five months along when he decided he had to tell Harry before it hit the papers. More and more friends and family members were figuring it out every day and it was only a matter of time before word got out.

            Harry was in the habit of having Sunday dinner with the Malfoys as his way of dropping Eiona off. It worked out well for him schedule-wise and meant he had a chance to spend a bit of time with Draco. Draco had already been lying down in bed by the time Harry got home from work every day that week. Thus he was really beginning to miss his husband and grateful for the chance to see the wizard. He wondered if Draco was ill, because Cissy’s excuses of Draco getting up in the night with a fussy Eiona just didn’t hold water. Eiona was fine when Harry had her and he had her for two to three hours every night.

            When Harry arrived with Eiona, no one was yet in the dining room. It wasn’t the large dining room that had been used for the family dinner, but the small one on the other side of the house. It was a bit unusual for no one to be there, because Cissy and Draco were usually here with whoever had been invited that Sunday. Ideally it would be Dromeda and Teddy, but Draco’s friends and family had also been there as well.

            Vile Thing and Dotty apparated into the room, suddenly appearing right in front of Harry and Eiona. The older elf bowed her nose down to the floor, and the younger one copied. Then Vile Thing prodded her daughter, “Dotty must give Auror Potter the message now.”

            “Mistress Narcissa is saying for…I’m sorry sir,” Dotty muttered the last part, before letting out a loud wail that upset Eiona.

            “Dotty is going back to the kitchens now. Vile Thing will give the message,” Vile Thing said.

            Dotty disappeared with a very loud pop, further upsetting Eiona. Vile Thing waited for Harry to calm his daughter before announcing, “Mistress Narcissa and Master Draco will be down in a few minutes. Auror Potter and Mistress Ipheion may wait in the sitting room.”

            “Thank you,” Harry replied.

            “Please do not thank elves in this house Auror Potter. You is a bad owner and we is not wanting to corrupt Dotty and Dobson,” the elf chastised, before walking away, so as not to disturb the child again.

            Harry found a seat in the sitting room and let Eiona down. He was only sitting there a minute when Draco appeared, wearing unusually tight fitting robes. He hadn’t seen Draco in robes that tight in months and he hadn’t seen Draco with a belly that big since Draco was pregnant with Eiona. Now that the baggy clothes were gone, the belly was obviously a pregnancy belly and not a bit of weight gain from the new diet. In fact, the rest of Draco was still slender.

            “What the bloo-” Harry cut himself off, stopping himself from cursing in front of his daughter.

            “Harry, I have something I need to tell you,” Draco said, taking a seat in the armchair opposite Harry’s. He rested his hands on his growing stomach, relieved that he no longer had to hide the action from Harry. “I’m pregnant.”

            “I see that. How?”

            “Smith said the contraceptive charm must’ve failed. He says it happens sometimes.”

            “How far along are you?”  
            “Five months.”

            “Whose is it?” Harry asked. Maybe it wasn’t the smartest question to ask, but he’d just had a bit of a shock and he wasn’t thinking clearly.

            “And you wonder why I don’t want to give it another go with you, you infernal git. If that’s how you’re going to be, you can just leave. I don’t need y-” However that sentence was going to end, it didn’t, cut off by a sob as Draco couldn’t hold back his tears. “I,” sob, “just…wanted…you…to…know…first.” Draco stood up to go, tears streaking down his face.

            Harry jumped up and started talking as he followed behind Draco, Draco taking off in the direction of his rooms. “No, wait Draco. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that. Will you wait please?”

            Draco turned around in the hall next to a stone statue of one of his ancestors that turned its head to look curiously at them. He took a large raspy breath holding back his tears and said, “Stop following me. You don’t need to feel you have any responsibility towards us, besides child support. We’re better off wi-.” The last word turned into a sob and the crying came back suddenly.

            “Buck up boy; that’s not proper form for a Malfoy,” the nearby statue chastised.

            “Shove off,” Harry said turning his head in the direction of the statue, before quickly turning back to Draco. “Draco, look, I’m so sorry I said that. It’s my baby, isn’t it?” Draco nodded. “Come here.” Harry enveloped Draco in a hug “Of course I want to be there for you and our baby. I was just in shock and not thinking. I knew the answer almost as soon as it was out of my mouth and that it was a stupid thing to ask.”

            Suddenly Draco’s emotional behavior made sense. He’d been hyper sensitive and cried all of the time when he was pregnant with Eiona too. At first Harry thought that that last time they’d had sex before he’d asked for a divorce was what must’ve done it. Then Harry did the math and realized Draco must’ve gotten pregnant long before that, because they had only been broken up for two months.

            “You were pregnant when you started acting weird, weren’t you?” Harry asked, connecting the dots, and Draco nodded. “How long have you known?”

            Draco tried to answer, but he was crying too hard for it to be understandable.

            “Did you just find out?” Harry asked and Draco shook his head. “Have you known all along then?” Again Draco shook his head. Harry was about to give up on finding out the answer right now when the answer occurred to him. “Since that first appointment with Smith? When you found out about the hypoglycemia?” That time Draco nodded. It occurred to Harry then that all of Draco’s strange and dangerous behavior could have harmed their unborn child. If he’d just insisted on taking Draco in to see Smith when it had started, then they would’ve known about the pregnancy and the hypoglycemia all along. If they’d known, they might even have been able to prevent some of it. And with his self-deprecating tendencies, he blamed himself for not ensuring Draco received proper medical treatment from the beginning.

            After several minutes of silent thought, Harry decided that it was no use dwelling on it in front of Draco and that he could beat himself up over it later. He regrouped and asked, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

            Draco tried to say something starting with what Harry thought was a D sound, but it was incomprehensible with the way Draco was sobbing.

            “Because of the divorce?” Harry asked and Draco nodded. “I would’ve called it off if I’d known. As soon as I leave here, I’m going to go home and write my attorney to call it off. I never would’ve asked for it in the first place if I’d known you were pregnant. Draco, this is so wonderful. Do you have any idea how happy this makes me?” Draco nodded. “Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl yet?”

            Harry was hoping the answer was no, so that he could go with Draco, but then Draco nodded and tried to say something that almost resembled the word, “Boy.”

            “It’s a boy!?!” Harry asked excitedly and Draco nodded. Harry’s heart swelled with joy. “Draco, this is the best news I think I’ve ever received. Wait, second best. Finding out that you were pregnant with Eiona and coming to live with me was the best, but I didn’t know it at the time. Just thinking about another little Potter coming into the world…”

            Draco screamed wordlessly and pushed Harry away then. Harry was taken by surprise and Draco was able to break free, taking off at a waddle for his rooms. He wasn’t fast by any measure and almost tripped on a footrest, blinded as he was by his tears. Thus Harry kept up and followed Draco through the sitting room and into a bedroom he’d never been in before. It was clearly Draco’s bedroom, with his things scattered about.

            “Why did you run off? What did I say?” Harry asked.

            “Just go,” Draco said thickly, surprisingly getting out something intelligible amongst his tears.

            “No Draco. You tell me that you’re five months pregnant with my baby and then you want me to ‘just go’?” I don’t think so. You can lie down or do whatever you need to calm down, but when you do, I’m going to still be here waiting for a chance to talk with you about this. This is _our_ baby and I expect to be a part of his life.”

            “I’m tired,” Draco said with a yawn and a sob, lying down on his bed, still in his robes.

            Harry was about to protest, but then he noticed Draco’s eyes closing and the sobbing begin to cease. In a matter of moments, Draco was sound asleep. Harry thought that that was probably his cue to leave, but he refused to obey. Instead he went out to Draco’s sitting room, where he found a scroll of parchment and a pen. First he wrote a letter to his attorney, ordering him to cancel the divorce at all cost as soon as possible, giving the fact that Draco was pregnant as his excuse. Then he wrote quick notes to Molly and Hermione, figuring that they could tell the others. He wrote another one to Dromeda, asking if she’d known.

            Finally, Harry put away the writing supplies and took his notes down to the dining room, where he found Cissy eating supper with Eiona.

            “Oh Harry, are you ready to join us? Where’s Draco? Isn’t he with you?”

            “He fell asleep.”

            “Without dinner?”

            “He kept crying and said he was tired. He lay down and was out within seconds.”

            “That’s not good for his hypoglycemia. In the future, would you mind waiting until after dinner to say something so egregiously rude?”

            “Yes, er, sorry. I didn’t mean to say it in the first place. I tried apologizing to him and telling him I’d be there for him and the baby.” Harry let out an exasperated sigh. “But he just kept crying.”

            “Shall I call Vile Thing to bring you a plate Harry?”

            “Yes please, but might I also use your owls? I sort of have, er, four notes I need to send off right away.”

            “Certainly, but we only have two owls,” Cissy replied.

            “That will do.”

            Cissy called Vile Thing to fetch Harry a plate and Dobson to fetch the owls. Dinner was there first, so Harry sat down and had a bite, but then jumped up when Dobson appeared with the two large eagle owls. He recognized both of the owls. Cissy sent Draco enough things, both packages and letters, that he knew the Malfoy owl Viper by sight. Draco’s owl, Talon, he knew even better, the animal going along with Draco wherever Draco lived.

            Harry handed the letter for the lawyer to Dobson first to tie onto the owl. He waited until Viper was off, through the dining room window, before handing the two for Hermione and Molly to the elf.

            “These should be going to the same place. Talon should be able to do it; he’s managed it plenty of times before,” Harry said. Now that Hermione had finished her NEWTS, she mostly lived with the Weasleys. Sometimes she went home and stayed with the Grangers, but for the most part she could be found at the Burrow.

            “Very good Auror Potter, sir,” Dobson replied, before tying both letters onto the owls legs.

            Then that owl too was off and Harry stuffed the letter for Dromeda into his pocket. He’d send it when one of the owls returned.

            With the owls off, Harry sat down again to eat. Eiona finished first and started to fuss, wanting to be put down. Cissy let the child down and sent her off with Vile Thing to the playroom.

            After Harry finished eating, he set his fork down and said, “I’ve ordered my lawyer to call off the divorce.”

            “Draco won’t be pleased. He’s quite insistent on going through with it, despite the pregnancy. You really should have called it off prior to finding out about the baby. I did warn you of that,” Cissy replied. “He’ll fight you harder now.”

            “ _That’s_ what you were trying to tell me? You’ve known he’s pregnant this whole time?”

            “No, he didn’t tell me until the next day.”

            “You’ve known this whole time, minus _one day_?”

            “Yes.”

            “And you didn’t tell me?”

            “No. My son expressly forbade it and you were certainly enough of a horrible buffoon to warrant it. I did try to give you hints.”

            “Hints, what hints? There was no way I was ever going to figure it out from your warning.”

            “If you recall, I did say that this entire thing was solely the fault of yourself. I told you my Draco was blameless in this matter. Surely you don’t still blame him after finding out that his illness is a direct result of your overactive libido and inability to cast a proper contraceptive charm.”

            Cissy had Harry there, so he shook his head in defeat. “No, I don’t blame him. I tried to tell him that, but I don’t know how much of it he processed. He was crying…a lot.”

            “That is what one gets when one reacts to a pregnancy by asking for a divorce. Personally, I think it is the stupidest thing you have ever done. I certainly hope so, for my grandchildren’s sakes, or they may just turn out with the intelligence of a Goyle.”

            “No, you’re right. It is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. Can I sleep here tonight? Like on the floor, right in front of his doorway so that I’ll know when he gets up?”

            “You are aware of the fact that it is Sunday night and he doesn’t usually wake until ten?”

            “He seriously sleeps from the time I pick Eiona up at five until ten the next morning?

            “Most nights he wakes to eat something sometime in the middle, but the elves tend to him then. My proper elves have managed to put some meat on his bones, unlike old Kreacher, who had him malnourished.”

            “Come now, Draco wasn’t malnourished. If anything, he was getting fatter.”

            “Because of the pregnancy. He didn’t tell you, but he was also diagnosed as malnourished. He told me that on a typical day, you’d make him two slices of toast for breakfast. He’d make himself a large pudding and then whether he had dinner or not depended on whether you stayed and made one or whether you ran off with the baby, leaving him there alone to fend for himself.”

            “He could’ve made himself whatever he wanted for dinner.”

            “He can’t cook! He still burns the bloody toast, for Salazar’s sake. He can make tea and pudding on a good day. That’s it. There is only so much pudding one can eat before one cannot stand pudding any longer.”

            Well that made Harry feel like a right arse. Here Draco was hypoglycemic and pregnant with his baby and what did Harry do? He ran off to the Weasleys night after night with Eiona to eat, leaving his pregnant husband behind to starve. “Why didn’t he just come here to eat?”

            “Most of the time, I don’t think he was capable of processing his situation enough to consider it. When it did occur to him, he was too embarrassed to act on it.”

            “Embarrassed?”

            “By you and your behavior,” Cissy clarified.

            “Right. Er, sorry.”

            “It’s my son and grandchildren you need to spend the rest of your lifetime apologizing to. You may sleep on the sofa in his sitting room, but I warn you, he may wake up confused after not eating dinner. If you behave inappropriately towards him—and I know all about how you had sex with him while he was out of it—I will personally call the Aurors in to deal with you and remove you from the premises.” And with that, Cissy stood from the table. “Now, if you will excuse me, I’m off to retrieve my granddaughter from the elves.”

            Harry went back to Draco’s sitting room to think. Meanwhile Cissy tended to Eiona and ordered Dobson to keep an eye on Harry and report to her immediately if Harry did anything inappropriate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So now Harry knows and is determined to get Draco back. The next chapter will continue where this one left off, when Draco wakes up. Please Review!


	14. Chapter14

            Harry slept on the sofa in Draco’s sitting room that night and woke when Draco stumbled out of his room to use the loo. Harry was up as fast as he possibly could, following after Draco. He wasn’t fast enough, because Draco had the door shut and locked with a spell before he got there. Thus he knocked and called, “Draco?”

            Draco didn’t respond. There was the sound of urine hitting water, followed by the sound of running water, and then the door opened again. Finally Draco stumbled out of the loo into Harry’s waiting arms.

            “Draco? Are you alright? Your mum said you need to eat something,” Harry said.             A pair of unseeing grey eyes looked up at Harry. “Right, that’s a no then. Well we’ll just have to take you to the dining room for supper.”

            Harry wrapped one arm under Draco’s armpits and together they made the trek downstairs to the dining room. Harry called Bobbie, the disfigured kitchen elf, directly and asked for a plate for Draco. Bobbie had set something aside for Draco already, so she quickly warmed it up and made it appear on the table. Harry had to lead Draco to the chair and put the fork in his hand, but Draco ate on his own.

            Draco finished the large plate of food rather quickly for someone in such a zoned out state. The empty plate vanished and was replaced with a large slice of hot apple pie with ice cream.

            “Hey, how come I wasn’t given any apple pie with dinner? I only got that pudding,” Harry complained.

            “Apple pie is reserved for Master Draco. Auror Potter may have more pudding,” Bobbie replied, appearing suddenly in front of Harry.

            “No thanks. Never mind then,” Harry grumbled. He was tired, it was the middle of the night, and he had a pregnant zombie on his hands.

            Once Draco ate, Harry led him back to bed. He couldn’t help the temptation and crawled into bed with his husband. Only moments later, Dobson popped into the room. The elf said only, “Dobson is fetching Mistress Narcissa to take care of Auror Potter, sir,” before disapparating away.

            Harry jumped out of Draco’s bed then. Cissy didn’t immediately appear, so he walked over to the other side of the bed, leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on Draco’s cheek. It was then that Cissy appeared.

            “I warned you Harry that I would not tolerate you taking advantage of my son. Now I really must insist that you go home,” Cissy said sternly.

            “But I didn’t do anything! I was only putting him back to bed! He woke up and I made sure he ate, just like you said!” Harry protested.

            “And climbing in there with him, from what Dobson said. I saw you kissing him just now. Do you think he would have consented to either, had he been awake?”

            “No, sorry…” Harry muttered.

            “Now go home and you are not to come back until the morning.”

            Harry grumbled some more, but Cissy was insistent, so he left. He went home and back to sleep. His alarm woke him at the usual time and it occurred to him then that he’d forgotten to notify his boss of the family emergency. Draco had taken his owl, Talon, with him when he left, which Harry had sent off with notes for Molly and Hermione last night. Harry thought he had no owl to send out with a message, but then he noticed Ron’s owl Pig flying around the kitchen, having been let in by Hissy, the new house elf.

            There was a long and somewhat jumbled note from the Weasleys attached to Pig’s leg. It was composed of several sections, each written in a different hand, by a different Weasley.

            Ron’s note said only, “Congratulations! How did this happen?”

            Hermione’s note followed. It also expressed congratulations, before insisting that Harry was to call off the divorce, apology profusely, and beg forgiveness. She had never been a big supporter of the divorce in the first place. Harry thought about writing her back that he’d already done all of that, but thought better of it, because he had a more important use for the owl.

            Molly’s note was full of chastisements for Harry, asking how he could’ve missed something like that and criticizing his previous treatment of a pregnant man. Then there was a list of things she insisted that Harry do, such as checking on Draco’s health and making sure Draco was getting enough rest. It was rather long and made Harry’s head hurt to read it, so he skipped to the next one. He’d go back and reread it later.

            The next one was from Ginny, which read only, “Way to go Git.”

            After that was one from Arthur, apologizing for Ginny’s comment, before extolling the virtues of communicating with one’s partner. There was a bit about being in tune with one’s spouse being necessary for any healthy relationship. It refreshingly didn’t cast a shadow of blame on Harry, unlike the other notes.

            Harry cast the scroll of parchment down on the kitchen table, telling the bird, “Stay put Pig. I’ll be right back with a letter for you. ” He then rushed up to the drawing room.

            Harry wrote a letter to his boss, Head Auror Robards, stating only that there was a family emergency involving Draco that he had to attend to today. Then he rushed back down to the kitchen and tied the note to Pig’s leg. “Now I need you to take this to the Ministry for me. Then come find me and I’ll give you another. I’ll be at Malfoy Manor,” Harry instructed.

            Pig took off and Hissy stepped forward, asking Harry what he wanted for breakfast.

            “Nothing. I’m heading back to Malfoy Manor now that it’s morning,” Harry replied, disappointing the young elf. “Just take care of Kreacher for me today, will you?”

            “Yes Master Harry! Right away Master Harry. Hissy is showing Kreacher the right way to clean and not letting him anywhere near the stove, sir.” She was a good elf and didn’t mind being made to live in a box in the cellar, because Kreacher still lived in the cupboard in the kitchen. Draco, it seemed, had been right again and there really was room for two elves.

            Harry dismissed the elf and went upstairs to dress. Afterwards he glanced at his watch and noticed that it was still quite early and wondered if he’d be welcome at the Manor this early. Instead he decided to write that reply to the Weasleys. This time he gave more details and assured his adoptive family that he was going to call off the divorce and do everything he could to get Draco back. By the time he finished, it was Eiona’s usual breakfast time, so Harry apparated back to Malfoy Manor.

            Cissy was in the dining room feeding her granddaughter and she greeted Harry curtly.

            “Daddy!” Eiona squealed with delight, spluttering scrambled eggs over the tray of her highchair.

            “Good morning Princess. I’ve written to my boss informing him that I am taking the day off. Can I spend the morning with you?” Harry asked his daughter.

            Eiona replied with an excited squeal and some probable words that Harry didn’t understand.

            “I trust you can act more appropriate in the light of day Harry, but do not expect Draco to be up for hours yet. This pregnancy has been very tiring for him,” Cissy said.

            “Why is that? He wasn’t nearly this tired with Eiona.”

            “Every pregnancy is different. Draco’s symptoms this time around have been radically different from the first time. So much so that the pregnancy wasn’t discovered until he was nearly three months gone.”

            “Surely the vomiting was the same, wasn’t it? I only saw him puke the once, but it had to have happened more than that.”

            “From what I am aware, there was only the one incidence of vomiting. He said he frequently had a queasy stomach, but self-mediated with tea and ginger biscuits.”

            “Is that why he was always eating those awful things?” Harry asked and Cissy nodded.

            Vile Thing delivered Harry a bowl of cereal then, apologizing on Bobbie’s behalf for not having prepared him a proper breakfast. Harry waved her off, insisting that this was fine for him.

            Harry spent the morning playing with Eiona, waiting for Draco to wake up. Pig returned and Harry dug out the letter for the Weasley’s from his pocket to send off. While doing so, he found the note to Dromeda there as well, having forgotten to send it the night before. The Malfoy owls were back, so he sent one off with it right away. Then he turned back to his princess, who happened to be pulling a crystal vase full of flowers off of the end table. It was spelled to be shatter resistant and had an invisible shield the flowers and water couldn’t pass through, but it still wasn’t something the child should be playing with.

            Harry took the vase from the child and put it back, saying, “This is not Eiona’s toy. Why don’t you show Daddy your bunny?”

            With that the child toddled over to pick up her stuff bunny. She and Harry were still playing with it when Draco woke up.

            “You are still here?” Draco asked sleepily, with a grunt on the end.

            “Yes. Have you eaten?” Harry asked and Draco shook his head. “Well go eat and then we will talk.”

            Half an hour later, after Draco had eaten, dressed, and otherwise prepared for the day, he allowed Harry to accompany him in his sitting room.

            “Why are you still here?” Draco asked, sitting down on his chase and pulling a throw blanket up over his baby bump.

            “Because you are pregnant with my child and we didn’t finish discussing it.”

            “There’s nothing to discuss. The elves will prepare a nursery on the other side of my room. Your child support payments will double. I may even grant you supervised visitation here at the Manor.”

            “Supervised visitation? I get more than that with Eiona.”  
            “Eiona will be two soon. This child will be a newborn who shouldn’t stray too far from me. After all, I am needed to feed him.”

            “Which is why you will move back in with me at Grimmauld Place.”

            “And do what? Sleep on the third floor landing while you turn the storage room into a nursery? No. We are getting a divorce, which means I cannot and will not live with you. And even if we weren’t, your house it too small for four people.”

            “I’ll make room. And we’re not getting a divorce. I’ve canceled it.”

            “We are too far in. You can’t cancel it now without my signature and I won’t sign. I’ve instructed my lawyer to proceed with it, even if you start dragging your heels. I figured you would, since it’s the children you were after in our marriage in the first place.”

            “No Draco, it’s not just the children. I love Eiona and I’ll love this new one, yes, but I miss _you_ so much. I can’t stand this separation. I told you that I wanted to end it before you told me about this baby.”

            “And yet you didn’t end it. You let your lawyer continue on with it.”

            “That’s because you told me too!”

            “Because I knew you didn’t really mean it. You just wanted me back for sex and then you’d pack me back off to my mother’s.”

            “No, that’s not true.”

            “Regardless of whether it’s true or not, you cannot deny that you did not want me back enough to fight for me.”

            “That’s what this is about? You wanted me to fight for you? I tried fighting for you. I went to that bloody dinner with your relatives, didn’t I?”

            “Yes, but the fact that you describe it as a “bloody dinner” does not count in your favor.”

            “I fought for you.”

            “Not hard enough. Not enough to stop the divorce. You didn’t even try to slow it down, or Salazar forbid, _pause_ it!”

            “I would’ve if you’d told me to!”

            “Do I have to tell you everything?”

            “Yes?” Harry’s statement came out like a question.

            “Why?”

            “Because I’m a bumbling buffoon who sticks my foot in my arse without you there to help me!”

            “That is true enough.”

            “So will you _please_ , I _beg_ you, take me back and come home with me?”

            “No.”

            “No?”

            “I’ve said this before Harry, it’s too little too late.”

            “Well I am going to fight for you then.”

            “You do that.”

            “And I won’t let the divorce move forward another step. I am going to fight you every step of the way.”

            “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”  
            “You wouldn’t?” Harry asked hopefully, taking it as a sign that Draco still wanted him to fight for their marriage.

            “No, I wouldn’t, not now that you know I’m pregnant. If you are done, Mondays Mother and I take Eiona to visit my father,” Draco replied, ending the conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The reason I’m able to bang these chapters out on a regular basis, is that I create a chapter by chapter outline for the story, so I already know what’s coming. Right now the outline is stuck with the upcoming Christmas Holiday and Eiona’s birthday. By that time Harry will have worked his arse off to try to make things up to Draco, so they will be firmly on the path to reconciliation, but not there by any means. So how do you think birthdays and holidays should go between two separated people? Obviously with Draco’s pregnancy he won’t be planning an elaborate 2cd birthday party for Eiona and I’m debating whether she should have a party at all, or just a family dinner and an outing. As for Christmas, should they keep it simple and spend it alone at the Manor, do separate Christmases where Draco takes her in the morning and Harry takes her to the Weasleys in the evening, or should Harry use the holiday as an excuse to further get to know Draco’s family and get Cissy to invite the pureblooded lot over? Do they get along or fight? Your input on any aspect of the issue is very much appreciated!  
> Please Review!


	15. Chapter15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The majority of reviewers voted for keeping Christmas small and going to neither the Weasleys or to Draco’s family. But I’m still thinking I might invite Draco’s grandparents, Aunt Dromeda, and Cousin Teddy over. As for the birthday, everyone seemed to agree that they should have a family dinner and an outing. Are there any suggestions for types of outings out there? I could do the typical park or heated community pool, or maybe something more winter themed….

_Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy to have Second Child_

_By Rita Skeeter_

        This reporter recently had the pleasure to sit down with Draco Malfoy to discuss his failing marriage, second pregnancy, and upcoming divorce. That’s right, dear readers, Draco Malfoy is indeed five months pregnant with Harry Potter’s second child. This came as quite a shock, because it is common knowledge that Potter began divorce proceedings just two months ago. We now know that while Potter was dreaming of a life without his husband, Malfoy was already three months gone.

         **“My soon to be ex-husband is an imbecile,”** Malfoy says.

        When asked why the couple chose to go through a divorce in the middle of a pregnancy, Malfoy gave the above quote. Potter, it seems, must be an imbecile to ask for a divorce from a man who was at the time three months pregnant with his second child. When asked for details, Malfoy informs me that he was very sick for the first few months. Potter didn’t want to deal with it and instead of seeking medical treatment for Malfoy, asked for a divorce.

        Malfoy was recently diagnosed with hypoglycemia, a potentially deadly disease that can be easily treated. He reports acting spacey and suffering from memory loss. He told this reporter that he wasn’t able to think clearly or function properly, so it didn’t occur to him to visit his healer. When one spouse is ill, it falls to the other to take care of them and see to it that they receive proper medical care, but that is not what Potter did. Instead Potter ignored Malfoy, leaving his husband and unborn child to suffer.

        It wasn’t until Potter asked Malfoy for a divorce and dropped his husband off with Malfoy’s mother that Malfoy was taken to see a healer. Apparently the vows, “In sickness and in health,” mean nothing when you are the Savior of the Wizarding World. For Potter’s next marriage, this reporter recommends changing that particular vow to, “In sick, shall we divorce and I’ll leave you to your mummy to nurse back to health,” for it was indeed Lady Malfoy who was left with the task of helping the pregnant wizard to recover.

        Once Malfoy was on the mend, Potter changed his tune and asked Malfoy to take him back. But Potter had already shown his true nature and Malfoy was not pleased. **“What if I become sick again? Will he turn around and ask for a divorce again? I can’t handle the emotional rollercoaster with him,”** Malfoy says. And at five months pregnant, who can blame him?

        Malfoy’s concern over what will happen to him when he gets sick again is understandable for a pregnant wizard diagnosed with a serious condition. Pregnancy is a messy dangerous process at the best of times, but with a condition like hypoglycemia in the works, it is bound to be troubled. The thought of leaving the safety of a loving caring mother to return to a selfish and inattentive husband must be frightening to a wizard in his position.

        A hard pregnancy and a lifelong case of hypoglycemia are likely not the only medical concerns troubling Malfoy, whose father, Lucius Malfoy, has just been released from St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Lucius spent over a year in hospital after being diagnosed with Motor Neurone disease. He suffered through a long and painful treatment process and is now in remission. Given his improved health status, he was transferred to the Ministry for Magic’s Holding Facility, where he awaits his day in court. Lucius is the last of the Death Eaters to be tried and there is a movement from his family to release him to their custody, due to his fragile health. See page 33 for further details on the movement and how you can help.

        Motor Neurone disease has been known to run in the Malfoy family for centuries. In all likelihood the young Malfoy will one day be diagnosed with it. When he is, what will Potter do? Likely more of the same as what he has been doing these past few months: push Malfoy off on his mother to care for and act like it is not his problem. With a husband like that, it is no wonder Malfoy is now pushing for a divorce.

        The article continued on, but Harry stopped reading there; he’d read it half a hundred times and practically had it memorized. It was a five page spread complete with several pictures of a pregnant Draco Malfoy. They were the first pictures given to the papers and the first interview with a reporter since the Malfoy/Potter wedding. As such, the Daily Prophet and Rita Skeeter scooped all other news sources, including the Quibbler, which has long enjoyed a special privilege when it came to reporting on the Chosen One. The press was having a field day with it.

        Of course Skeeter put all the worst things first, with everything positive Draco had to say about Harry relegated to the end of the article. There was an entire page of Draco talking about how happy they had been when they first got together. They were busy with a newborn, but completely infatuated with one another. Draco even admitted to being head-over-heels in love with Harry. Draco then went on to blame himself for the failed marriage, saying that he spent too much time worrying about his father and not enough making Harry happy. Harry, on the other hand, didn’t think that was the case at all, because he knew how sick Lucius was and how much Lucius meant to Draco. If anything, Harry didn’t think he’d been supportive enough about the situation and regretted every negative comment he ever made about his father-in-law.

        Harry dropped the paper to his coffee table with a huff. “Do you really think that’s it Hermione?” he asked his best friend.

        Harry had called Hermione, because she was the hardest on him and the most pro-Draco of his friends. He needed the opinion of someone who understood where Draco was coming from, not Ron or George, who would just tell him that Draco was a wanker and want to leave it at that. Pretty much all of Harry’s male friends had owled him letters of support, some saying they didn’t know what he saw in Draco in the first place. Given that he now realized he was wrong, he was beginning to think all men were stupid. At least Hermione and Luna hadn’t taken his side when he was in the wrong.

        The article had turned up in the Sunday morning paper, so Harry had firecalled his friend and asked her to come over immediately. She’d been at her parents’ house this time, Harry knew, but thankfully the Grangers had long since been connected to the floo network. She rushed over, arriving even before Harry could get back from dropping Eiona off with Dromeda. He couldn’t handle the child when his mind was so preoccupied.

        “Do I think what’s it, Harry?” Hermione asked concerned. Harry had shown her the paper, only to snatch it back to read for himself a fifty-first time. She had read it without him, but she didn’t know to which part he was referring.

        “The Motor Neurone disease. Do you think that’s why Draco’s so mad at me for not taking care of him when he was sick?”

        “Possibly. Lucius would be dead right now if Cissy hadn’t stepped in and found that potions master.”

        Harry moaned, sunk his face into his hands, and asked, “Hermione, what am I going to do?”

        “If you really want Draco back, you need to take the initiative yourself. Draco refused to tell you what to do, but he still made it clear what he wanted done: you said it yourself, he wants you to fight for him.”

        “Yeah,” Harry agreed rubbing the back of his neck. He knew he first needed to show Draco that he was accepting of Draco’s friends and beliefs. Meanwhile he needed to stick to Draco’s side like glue and wait for Draco to be sick again. Next time, he’d dote on Draco properly himself and not leave any part of it up to Cissy or the house elves. Furthermore, he needed to find some way to stop that bloody divorce. He told Hermione as much.

        “You never should’ve initiated it in the first place!” Hermione replied.

        “Shafiq swears he’s doing all he can to stop it, but Draco’s attorney is cutthroat. I’m going to have to hire someone else to help me. Even then he suggests I come up with a medical condition of my own to stall. He gave me the name of an oncologist who’s willing to lie for me, but I can’t do that, Hermione. It’s wrong.”

        “What you have already done is wrong!”

        “Are you actually encouraging me to lie Hermione?”

        “No, of course not, but there has to be another way.”

        “If there is, Shafiq swore he’d find it.”

        “Good.”

        “What about Lucius and this house arrest thing? There’s an entire three page spread complete with more quotes from Draco. They are saying that if Lucius is given house arrest, it will set the stage for Fawley’s movement to free the vast majority of Death Eaters.”

        “I didn’t get a chance to read that part. Can I see it?” Hermione asked and Harry handed over the paper.

        Hermione was quiet as she read and then stayed quiet while she thought. Eventually she made up her mind on the matter. “You will have to support Draco on this, Harry. There’s no other way.”

        “Support Draco on releasing one of Voldemort’s inner circle? One of the few wizards to act as his second in command? Who funded the whole movement and gave his house up to the evil git?”

        “Yes, you have to if you want Draco back.”

        “But Hermione, he’s guilty. He deserves to spend time in Azkaban and to pay for his crimes.”

        “Voldemort already punished Lucius for his crimes or are you forgetting that the Malfoys had fallen out of favor.”

        “No, I haven’t forgotten.”

        “And there’s the fact that Lucius almost died a matter of months ago. He was diagnosed with a fatal illness and barely pulled through. Yes, he’s in remission now, but there is no telling how long it will last for. If we send him off to Azkaban, the conditions there will likely exasperate his condition. In all probability, he’ll end up back in St. Mungo’s and the tax payers will be footing the bill. At least if we send him home, he’ll be Cissy’s problem and the Malfoy estate will be footing the bill for the home care.”

        “You sound like one of Fawley’s supporters, always putting concerns about tax bills first.”

        “Well it makes sense. Our society is faced with numerous practical concerns right now. We can’t afford to finish the needed repairs, reform wizarding society, and keep twenty-five percent of our population behind bars. At least if we send them home, they can work and earn taxable wages. That way they are putting into the system rather than taking out.”

        “Don’t tell me you support Fawley now. What about Kingsley?”

        “Kingsley has done a lot for us, it’s true. He led us through the war and saw us successfully to the other side. He led the movement to lock up the remaining Death Eaters, getting horrid people off the streets. He got the Ministry and Hogwarts functioning again in record time. But we need to enter a new era of peace, not preserve this one of turmoil. Fawley is right that if we do nothing different, we will be faced with another wizarding war on our hands. We need to be pouring our tax resources into programs that will unify purebloods and muggleborns, such as public primary schools for magical children. Think about it, if the children go to school together from the time that they are in Kindergarten, then it will be harder for them to hate one another. Plus, it will lessen the gap between magical and muggle born.”

        “You sound just like Draco.”

        “Well he turned me onto Fawley’s politics, it’s true, but it makes sense. Don’t you see Harry?”

        “Yes, I see, but I have trouble turning my back on my friend. Kingsley has done so much for me. He’s the one who had the charges against Draco dropped in the first place.”

        “It’s not about preserving friendships Harry, it’s about what’s best for our nation. Ask yourself what sort of world you want to build for your children: one like the one we were brought up into, or a more peaceful one. A world where it doesn’t matter who our parents are, but rather who we are.”

        “You know I want peace, everyone does, but can Fawley really bring us peace?”

        “I’ve done a lot of research on this Harry and Fawley has some good ideas. He has good people working for him who will be able to see those ideas through. I was going to wait to tell you this, but they’ve offered me a job with the division for magical creature and beings rights. They want to put together a liaison office in charge of making sure each is treated fairly. At the head of each will be a counsel with both humans and creatures, so that the governed can have a say in how they are governed. It sounds very promising.”

        “You know that will mean freedom is not forced onto the house elves, don’t you?”

        “For now, yes, but they just need time to get used to the idea. There are so many areas I could make a difference in if I took the post.”

        “You seem set on it.”

        

        “Well I’ll have to talk to Ron, but yes, I think I am.”

        They spoke more of Hermione’s plans and what she would be doing for the Fawley campaign. Basically Fawley wanted to put his money where his mouth was and produce workable game plans for each issue he wanted to tackle in his time as minister. That meant Hermione would work together with a group of creature and being advocates to create the framework for the new department of the Ministry they would create, should Fawley’s ticket be successful.

        Then they spoke of what they were going to say to Kingsley and how Hermione and possibly Harry would break it to him that they were bailing on his campaign and withdrawing their support. Harry still didn’t know if he was going through with it. He needed time to think about if he could live with letting Lucius out of jail in exchange for saving his marriage. Even if the wizard was bound to the house with an unbreakable vow, there was still trouble he could get into and harm he could cause. If that happened, the blame would rest squarely on Harry’s shoulders.

        In the meantime, Harry had the first three steps in his game plan for getting Draco back to concentrate on: stopping the divorce, sticking like glue to Draco’s side, and getting to know Draco’s friends. Thus he set about to track down each one of Draco’s friends and find some redeeming quality in them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I plan on combining everything on Harry’s list into one chapter and not drawing it out. So for those of you anxious to see Harry and Draco back together, it won’t be that long now.  
> Please Review!


	16. Chapter16

             If Harry really wanted something, he had to take the initiative himself. If he was going to get Draco back, he first needed to show that he was accepting of Draco’s friends and beliefs, be more attentive with Draco’s health, and stop the divorce. And he couldn’t wait until Draco gave him the opportunity to do these things; he had to create the opportunity.

            Stopping the divorce was both the easiest and the hardest thing on the list. The easiest, because it required little effort from Harry, besides hiring a second divorce lawyer and directing his lawyers to do whatever it took. The hardest, because the divorce process was already started and Draco’s lawyer was equally tenacious in driving it through. Draco’s lawyer shot down Harry’s lawyer’s delay tactics, tearing down road blocks almost as fast as they could be put up. The wizard was efficient, but not unbeatable.

            Harry’s attorneys were currently winning, having managed to grind the process to a halt in the name of recalculating their finances to include the new baby. Shafiq had told Harry that they planned on waiting until the very last day to file before submitting error-filled paperwork. The judge would then be forced to give them yet another extension or calculate the numbers himself. It wouldn’t hold up the divorce forever, but it was a good start.

            Sticking by Draco’s side was more work for Harry, because he still had to work, he no longer lived with Draco, and Draco slept all the time. He began to spend most of his weekends at Malfoy Manor, but even then he had other things to do, like tracking down each one of Draco’s friends and trying to find some redeeming quality in them. Add in eating dinner at the Manor before taking Eiona home with him on weekdays and that was about the best he could do. Draco went straight to bed after supper and spent most of his waking hours while Harry was at work. If only Harry hadn’t told him to change his schedule in order to spend time with their daughter during the day without him…

            Arranging for meetings with Draco’s friends was easy. Surviving the meetings without being rude to them was much harder.

            Zacharias and Sally Smith, Draco’s closest cousins, both thought Harry was a right prick for how he treated Draco and told him so. Sally was a fourth year now and could only be described as a stuck up spoiled rotten rich teenager with a biting tongue. Zacharias was worse. Together they disparaged Harry and speculated on why their cousin would ever marry such a loser in the first place. Their conclusion was for the child’s sake, because it was frowned upon in pureblood society to not be married to the father of your children. If it wasn’t because of Eiona, then Draco must’ve been deaf, dumb, and blind to choose Harry.

            During his meeting with Pansy Zabini, she slapped Harry for leaving Draco while pregnant. She too was pregnant and obviously emotional and in her state, Harry couldn’t possibly slap her back. Instead he gritted his teeth and apologized to her for not making her feel like a welcomed guest in his house all those times she’d visited Draco. She didn’t forgive him, instead spouting insults at him and saying Draco was better off without him. Needless to say, it could’ve gone better.

            Harry thought Theo Nott was probably the best overall person, but Theo was more annoying and stuck up than Hermione. He talked not stop about the Fawley campaign, which he worked on. Nott was apparently on the commission to form primary schools for magical children. The goal was to set up four primary schools initially, throughout the country. Children would then floo into the closest school where they would receive a free education in primarily maths, reading, and writing, with a touch of a number of other subjects as well. There would be wizard health class, muggle science class, an introduction to the magical world class, and both wizarding and muggle history classes. It would be free for all magical children, both magical and muggle born and would place the children of the two groups on an equal playing field from a very young age. If friendships were formed early on, then those children would most likely be prevented from ever taking up arms against each other.

            Nott was soo boring that Harry actually fell asleep while the wizard blathered on. Yes, wizarding primary school was a good idea. No, Harry didn’t really care about the details. He’d probably care a great deal once Eiona was of school age, but his daughter was still not quite two, so he didn’t care. He tried to pretend he did and did his best to be civil with Draco’s most pro-muggle friend. But after falling asleep on the wizard, he could only hope Nott didn’t report it back to Draco.

            Greg Goyle and his fiancé Milli were stupid. She was quiet, he was loud, and they had the combined IQ of a doxy, if that. Greg had just found religion, after being spared from Azkaban for his “crimes” during the war. Truth be told, Greg was too stupid to have managed an actual crime and he mostly just stood by and acted as muscle for the people committing the crimes. It was pretty much an open and shut case, so of course he was going to be let go with community service. He didn’t need to start praying to the Mother and the Four Elements and reading tea leaves with his Druid every night. And Harry certainly didn’t want to hear about it. Harry’s only hope for a good report from Greg and Milli was that they were too stupid to realize how awful the meeting had gone.

            Daphne Greengrass, soon to be Nott, was too interested in her own good looks to hold a conversation about anything else. How the bimbo was able to maintain a relationship with the politically minded and seemingly intelligent Theo Nott, Harry couldn’t fathom. He could just imagine the conversations between the two of them.

            “Oh Theo! Do you like my new thousand galleon dress made out of pixy eyes? Don’t you love how the eyes shine in the candle light?” Daphne would ask breathily.

            “Oh no! Not the precious pixies! They’re sentient creatures with rights too! I’m forming an office to ensure they are treated fairly with medical treatment and schooling for all!” Theo would reply passionately.

            Then the two mismatched lovers would kiss and make up. The whole idea made Harry sick. He ended that meeting prematurely, telling Daphne that she and her very expensive dress had to go, because something imaginary had suddenly come up.

            But at least the romance between Theo and Daphne was real, if incomprehensible. The one between Tracey Davis and Vincent Crabbe was completely imaginary. Tracey was downright the most unbearable of Draco’s friends, owing to the fact that she was obsessed with her late boyfriend. Harry didn’t understand why the witch had gone out with the troll in the first place, much less why she continued to pine over Vince years after his death.

            Tracey’s obsession did seem at least in part Draco’s fault, because he’d encouraged her by fabricating a proclamation of undying love in the Room of Requirement, moments before Vince’s death; a proclamation Greg was too stupid to know if he’d heard or not. That was all she wanted to talk to Harry about, insisting that he must’ve heard it, despite the roar of the Fiendfyre and that he was on the other side of the room. When Harry said that he hadn’t, she broke down in tears and took forever to recover.

            Harry had tried to shove Tracey out the door then, but she wanted to stay and ask him more questions, under the impression that Vince must’ve said some other sound bite about her before dying. She was so insistent that Harry almost made up one about wanting her to move on with her life or one about wanting her to jump off a bridge and follow after. It was only the fact that he couldn’t decide between the two that stopped him and made him remember his initial incredulousness that Draco had already placated her.

            Blaise Zabini was the most like Ron out of Draco’s friends, although he was more prejudiced. Ideologically, Harry preferred Theo, but in practice Blaise was a ton of fun. They had a lot in common, because they were both married and expecting children. While Blaise hadn’t made the mistake of asking Pansy for a divorce, he had still made the mistake of marrying Pansy in the first place. She was making him about as miserable with her insane pregnancy requests and rollercoaster hormones as Draco was making Harry with insisting on continuing the divorce. Together they spent many hours griping over their pregnant spouses.

            Quidditch was another thing Harry and Blaise had in common and on their second meeting, they played a one on one game, in which they both played chaser and goalie at once. Afterwards they lounged around complaining about their spouses’ mounting political obsessions, with both Pansy and Draco ever more focused on the election around the corner. It was only days before they would all have to vote, but the two of them were united in not having decided which candidate to vote for. It’s not that they didn’t want to make the world a better place, but that they had no affinity for the game and all of the confusing mumbo jumbo that seemed to mean little or less.

            The first and second meetings with Blaise went well, so they started hanging out together more. The two of them spent voting day together, telling their friends and family they were going to the polls, when in reality they drank butterbeers at Grimmauld Place in toast to no more bloody political talk. They sat out voting day together, each the other’s alibi claiming to have seen each other at the polls, and let the more politically minded make the decisions.

            Harry started referring to Blaise as his friend, especially in Draco’s presence. Once he actually asked, “Can my friend Blaise join as for Sunday dinner?” He knew it would mean having Pansy over too, but it was worth it to prove how hard he was trying.

            Blaise was Harry’s favorite, but probably the most innately likeable of the bunch was Draco’s cousin Adrian Pucey. Adrian was the last on Harry’s list to meet, having agreed upon getting together the weekend after the election. Harry remembered him from playing Quidditch at Hogwarts, particularly how he was one of the few Slytherins who didn’t cheat. He was two years older than Harry and a decent bloke; the only bloke his age in his family who hadn’t joined the Death Eaters. During the war, he’d been leaning towards joining the Peace Movement with Theo Nott, but hadn’t actually made up his mind before the final battle. Now he supported Fawley, but wasn’t big on politics and didn’t talk about that much.

            Adrian liked Quidditch, but hadn’t played in ages, because these days he devoted all of his free time to helping rebuild damaged property after the war. He dragged Harry along with him to one of these rebuilds, explaining that there were still hundreds of wizarding and muggle buildings throughout the country in need of repair. Hogwarts and the Ministry had received attention first and were almost completely rebuilt, while other buildings, especially private houses, were left to the owners to fix on their own. Many simply didn’t have the money, resources, or man-power to rebuild.

            Adrian took Harry to help rebuild the house of some witch neither of them knew. He didn’t tell Harry that her husband had died a Death Eater until halfway through, under orders from Draco to test Harry. Thus Harry had already become invested in the project and helping the single mother of four before he even realized that her family had been on the other side. By that time, he’d seen the raggedy orphans, the youngest of which was two, the oldest only seven, and felt sorry for them.

            The mother had never worked before, but after losing everything including their home in a fire, she’d taken up a job as a secretary. How exactly the fire started was unknown, but what was known was that there had been a skirmish on the property after her husband and several of his fellow Death Eaters retreated there for safety, only to be followed by Order of the Phoenix members. Fighting ensued, the house had burned, and she’d barely gotten the children out alive.

            After spending half the day seeing the plight of the Death Eater’s family, Harry began to see just how bad things were. It didn’t matter if a family was minus a husband and father because he was a Death Eater or because he was a hero; either way times were hard. Times were even harder for the Death Eater’s family, because public opinion wasn’t on their side and they weren’t eligible for any of the charity offered to war victims.

            Harry was so moved that he brought Hermione back to the build site the next day to show her. Adrian was there again and roped them into putting in another day’s work. Harry couldn’t stay long, because this was his time to spend with Eiona, but Hermione stayed and took up the plight of the widowed Death Eater’s wife. Hermione said that as soon as things were settled with the election, which Fawley had just won earlier that week, she was going to suggest to Fawley himself that all war relief and charity monies be made available equally for all, regardless of which side they were on during the war.

            Harry had made considerable efforts, but there was one area he was still lacking in: caring for the sick. His lack of care for Draco when Draco was sick was a fact that had been brought up by Draco and his family on multiple occasions. Even Hermione and Molly were appalled when they first found out. Thus he knew that he had to make an effort to become a more caring person when it came to health.

            Harry was doing his best to show interest in Draco’s health and do anything he could to help. But Draco’s condition was under control now and he’d been feeling much better lately, so there wasn’t any real opportunity for Harry to show he could do it. To compensate, Harry started reading. Draco was pregnant, so Harry found a book on pregnancy. Draco had hypoglycemia, so Harry looked up the glycemic index and how the body processes sugar. Now Harry could analyze a meal and determine if it was healthy for Draco, but it still wasn’t enough, because Draco didn’t seem the least bit impressed.

            It was Hermione’s idea to volunteer to be a nurse’s assistant to get real life experience caring for truly sick patients. Harry knew just the place to volunteer. Draco’s father had Motor Neurone disease and was currently being housed in the Ministry’s Secure Treatment Facility for inmates with medical conditions. Lucius was on the mend, but recovery from his near-death episode was slow. It would take time, hard work, and lots of rehab to get the wizard back into the shape he was in when he was first diagnosed. Only people with the proper security clearance could work and volunteer there and as an Auror, Harry just happened to have the proper clearance. Thus that was where he started volunteering.

            As a volunteer at the Ministry’s Secure Treatment Facility, Harry helped care for many patients, including Lucius Malfoy. He actually found that he preferred caring for Lucius, because many of the other patients were a lot worse off than his father-in-law. He’d never shied away from blood or gore before, but some of the putrid, smelly, infected sores turned his face green and tested his Gryffindor courage. The absolute worse were the near-death patients, especially those with battle wounds, who reminded him of all the people who had died for him and all those who died in the war for freedom. But he carried on, despite his discomfort, in the hope that Draco would be impressed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went a bit fast, but I wanted to work through all of Harry’s efforts in one chapter. Next we will get to see what Draco thinks of it all. Please Review!


	17. Chapter17

            “Draco, I need to apologize to you,” Harry said one Saturday afternoon. He’d just returned to the Manor with Eiona after a playdate with Fleur and Victoire. He’d already handed his daughter over to Draco for an enthusiastic greeting filled with hugs and kisses between the two.

            “Yes, you do. I’m glad you’re finally seeing it. But, might I ask, in which area have you finally come to your senses?” Draco asked curiously, lounging back on his chaise in his sitting room, Eiona wedged between his belly and his chest playing with one of her toys.

            “Vicky. She’s a nightmare. She went all harpy during the playdate and I barely got Eiona away before she got hurt,” Harry admitted. It was scary the way little Victoire’s face shifted from beautiful to harsh with a sharp beak. Her attitude had shifted too, instantly going from sweet little girl to kicking and hitting wildly. It was amazing Fleur only ended up with a few scrapes and bruises.

            “I thought I said I didn’t want Eiona near the veela spawn after she _bit_ my little princess?”

            “I know, which is why I’m apologizing. I’m sorry, I was wrong. I hadn’t seen it, so I didn’t know what she was like when she got mad. I thought you were overreacting, but now I think you may’ve been underreacting.”

            “So you went behind my back, endangered Eiona’s precious life, and now wish me to forgive you?” Draco asked skeptically.

            “Yes.”

            “And how do I know you won’t do it again?”

            “I won’t. I know what she’s like now.”

            “I’m sure next week Hagrid will turn up with a little werewolf pup for Eiona to play with and you’ll agree to that playdate too.”

            “Well unless it’s the full moon…” Harry started to say, but changed his tune, due to the glare Draco was shooting him. “Fine, no playdates at all unless you approve.” Draco nodded. “And next time I’ll believe you when you say someone is dangerous.”

            “FYI, I’ll turn into a harpy and tear _your_ face off if you let anything bad happen to my children,” Draco said sweetly.

            “I’d expect nothing less.”

            “Good. There is something I wanted to say to you too,” Draco said seriously.

            “What is it?”

            “I know that I caused a lot of the strain in our marriage. I said it to Skeeter, but that article seemed to gloss over that and focus on blaming you. I do blame you for breaking our marriage vows, but not for everything. I should have seen a healer when I first started feeling ill. I also know that I do occasionally over-react and that I’m not any good at cleaning a house, so I didn’t exactly make things easier for you.”

            “Thank you for saying so, but the cleaning thing was probably my fault for not getting a new elf sooner.”

            Draco nodded and said, “There’s something else I wanted to talk to you about.”

            “Yes?” Harry asked expectantly.

            “Blaise told me he had fun with you the other day. Adrian had good things to say too. And I know you’ve been volunteering over at the Secure Treatment Facility; my father told me. I’m impressed.”

            “Really?”

            “You sound surprised.” Draco raised an eyebrow questioningly.

            “Well I thought that maybe one of your friends hadn’t approved of me…”

            “Which one?” Draco asked pointedly.

            “Um, Tracey?” Draco shook his head, so Harry proffered up another name. “Theo.” Another shake of the head from Draco. “Daphne?”

            “No.”

            “Pansy?”

            “Yes, well she was going to report negatively on you no matter what you did.” Draco smirked as he said it and let out a laugh at the end.

            “Seriously? Pansy was the only one who didn’t like me?” Harry asked surprised.

            “You sound surprised.”

            “Yes, well, I didn’t exactly hit it off with the others.”

            “How so?”

            “I liked Theo, but he was sooo boring I fell asleep,” Harry admitted sheepishly.

            “We all fall asleep on Theo sometimes. He’s used to it.”

            “Whew.”

            “So why didn’t you think Tracey liked you?”

            “Well I wouldn’t add to her little fantasy about Vince.” Harry left out that he wanted to strangle the bint by the end of the meeting.

            “Not many will.”

            “She really needs help, that one.”

            “Maybe, but what’s the harm? If she’s destined to live her life alone, why can’t she be in love with a dead man?”

            “It’s not normal.”

            “My friends would say it’s not normal to be in love with a Potter.”

            “Point taken. Okay, I won’t say anything about her, but please, I beg you, don’t invite her to any family dinners.”

            “Are you implying that you would like to go to another of my family dinners?”

            “Yes…If you’ll have me that is.”

            “Alright.”

            “Alright?”

            “Yes, alright.”

            “Does that mean you’ll give me another chance?” Harry asked hopefully.

            “Yes, to a point,” Draco said shyly, looking down at Eiona and then back up at Harry. “But I have one condition.”

            “Name it.”

            “You give an interview stating that you are in favor of my father being released on house arrest and you testify to it in court, if called.”

            “Draco, I told you I don’t want to get involved in the politics. I just want to say nothing and let someone else figure it out.”

            “Harry, Fawley already won the electron. The hurting Kingsley’s feelings part is over, so as far as the politics goes, it doesn’t matter what you say. It _does_ matter to me though. I want my father back. I love him and I miss him. I know he’ll relapse and die if sent to Azkaban,” Draco pleaded passionately.

            “Fine, I’ll do it.”

            “You will?”

            “Yes, come here,” Harry said, holding his arms out for a hug.

            Draco moved, passing Eiona off to Harry. Harry placed her onto his hip and held a hand out to help Draco, who was still struggling with his enlarged stomach. Once Draco finally stood upright, Harry wrapped his free arm around his husband.

            “Thank you so much for this Draco, I promise you won’t regret it,” Harry said, before leaning in for a kiss.

            Draco kissed back and it turned into a bit of a snog, before Eiona screamed and started pushing on Harry, wanting to be let down. Harry let her down. Draco sat back down on his chaise and Harry sat next to him.

            “Harry, I want you to know why I agreed, apart from the fact that I love you and you are willing to support me with my father,” Draco said and Harry nodded for him to continue. “I know you didn’t get along with all of my friends and family and I don’t expect that. But you did try and in doing so you became friends with two of my friends. I expect you to continue trying to understand my viewpoint and my culture. I expect you to help me get Father home. Otherwise we will be right back where we were and I can’t live like that.”

            “Draco, I’m going to try my very best to be everything you need me to be.”

            “Wonderful.”

            “Now when are you moving home?” Harry asked with a giant smile on his face.

            “I didn’t agree to all that.”

            The smile fell from Harry’s face. “What? Why? I thought you agreed to give me another chance?”

            “I did, but I didn’t agree to move back into Grimmauld Place. I didn’t even agree to call off the divorce. I agreed to put it on hold while we try to rekindle our relationship. I was thinking more on the lines of a date. Are you going to take back your decision to help my father if I don’t move back in with you?”

            “No, I meant it. I’ll help him. I’d just hoped…Never mind,” Harry said shaking his head, the frown of concentration turning to a smile. “A date is brilliant. What did you have in mind?”

            “Surprise me.”

            And so that is how Harry went from fearing Draco would skin him alive for allowing the playdate with Victoire, to over the moon with excitement for their upcoming date. They really hadn’t been on many dates. There were a few outings, such as the dinner at the muggle ice cream parlor and dancing at his eighteenth birthday party, before Eiona was born that he’d always remember fondly. He’d taken so long to figure out his own feelings that by the time they’d finally gotten together, Draco was so far along that trips for anything other than baby necessities were unheard of. Then after she was born, they were too busy being new parents and planning their wedding to date. Then came Lucius’ illness, making a date a very rare occurrence indeed. Maybe, just maybe, that was about to change; maybe this would be the first of many dates.

            There was still the problem of planning a romantic date. Harry had even less experience planning a date than he did going on them. He considered keeping it simple and taking Draco to a fancy restaurant for dinner and dancing. Draco loved to dance, but he was in his second trimester already and tired so easily these days; Harry didn’t want to risk his one precious date on an activity that might prove difficult for his pregnant husband. He considered a family outing, such as taking Eiona to the zoo, but didn’t want it to turn into a day about their children, when he was trying to show that he loved Draco regardless of their children.

            Harry then started asking other people for advice on where to take Draco. Hermione recommended the Royal Observatory to see the planetarium there. It sounded romantic, especially given the Black family’s obsession with the stars, but it was also a very muggle date. He was trying to show that he could be accepting of pureblood culture too and a muggle establishment was not the place to do that. He then asked Molly Weasley for help, but all of her suggestions were the type of cheap low class dates Arthur had taken her on, not the type of pureblood thing Harry had in mind.

            Finally Harry turned to Dromeda, who had been raised to be a stuck up pureblooded Black and despite falling in love with a muggleborn, still knew a bit about pureblood dating.

            “First off, you will need flowers or jewelry, Harry, don’t forget that the one being courted is expecting to be spoiled. It is part of our custom to show interest with gifts. The more expensive, elaborate, or difficult to make, the more serious you are about the courting,” Dromeda said.

            “But we’re already married; I’m not trying to court him,” Harry protested.

            “Doesn’t matter. If you want to impress him with your knowledge and acceptance of pureblood customs, then you need to follow the strictest courting protocols. You need to act as if this was your first date.”

            “Alright, I can see the logic in that. I’ll buy him jewelry or flowers. What else?”

            “Generally the younger crowd would do something fun, like a Quidditch match or a wizard-rock concert, but if you really want the complete pureblood experience, I would recommend a wizarding play. We don’t have movies, so dinner and a play is the wizarding equivalent of the typical date. Perhaps a wizarding opera or symphony for those with more sophisticated, meaning stodgy, tastes.”

            Harry didn’t think he’d be able to stomach an opera of any sort and wasn’t entirely sure what going to a symphony was like. The play was the safest choice, because he’d figured it was just like a movie, only performed live. “So a play. Is there anything else?”

            “Put some research into it before choosing the play. This is your chance to find something stodgy enough to be worthy of a pureblood and make sure to have reservations at a fancy wizarding restaurant nearby. And with Draco being pregnant, it’d be advisable to bring him snacks to munch on during the play,” Dromeda said and Harry agreed.

            Harry thanked Dromeda for her wonderful advice and then went off to research wizarding plays, in order to find the perfect one. He was going to follow her advice to the letter and make this the most perfect date ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the date it is up and very soon afterwards, it will be Draco’s turn to work on all of his problems and issues. Communication will be a major thing they work on in therapy, but maybe he could have homework assignments on communicating in their lives. What do you think? What would you have them work on in therapy?
> 
> I’d like to thank diddleymaz for reviewing the last chapter. Your feedback has given me the inspiration I need to write the upcoming holiday scenes!
> 
> Please Review!


	18. Chapter18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was delayed in posting this chapter by the fact that my laptop was in the shop yesterday. I broke the hinge, so she needed a whole new top casing. I'm very glad she survived; I'm rather attached.

            Harry set off to find the perfect play. He owled all of Draco’s friends for advise in addition to reading multiple reviews for each of the choices. Daphne and Tracey recommended a sappy romance, Blaise a comedy, and Theo a piece of political propaganda. None of them seemed right, with the romance and political plays sounding boring, while the comedy was too light hearted. What he most wanted to see was a heart wrenching drama about the plight of a pureblood orphan after the war, but it had poor reviews. In it the young orphan discovers that her parents had been Death Eaters and then went on to overcome the prejudice caused by her dead parents. It was not at all the type of anti-Death Eater propaganda that was popular these days, hence the poor reviews. With bad reviews and none of Draco’s friends recommending it, Harry almost passed it up, until he finally received a response back from Pansy. Pansy loved it.

            Normally Pansy Zabini isn’t the type of person Harry would turn to for dating advice, but she happened to be one of Draco’s very best friends. Plus she was recommending the play he wanted to see, so he decided to take her advice.

            That settled, Harry turned to researching the restaurants in the area. There was only really one choice when it came to expensive pureblood food in the area of the theater. He almost went with it, but then realized that the ice cream parlor that they’d gone to with Ron and Hermione was only a few blocks away from the theater. The Malfoy family has enjoyed a long business arrangement with the muggle owners of that shop, with the muggle funneling Malfoy house elf-made computer chips into the muggle supply. It was one of only a very few muggle businesses the Malfoys frequented and it was the first place Harry had ever taken Draco outside of Grimmauld Place. It was hard to choose between a muggle place he knew Draco liked and a pureblood restaurant that was the type of place he was trying to show Draco that he was cool with. He almost ruled the ice cream parlor out due to the fact that it was winter and far too cold for ice cream, but they were wizards capable of casting warming charms. Ultimately, he decided on the ice cream parlor, hoping it’d bring back some of their good memories.

            As for the gift, Harry decided to go with both flowers and jewelry. Flowers were easy, because he just asked the florist for a bouquet like the one they’d had for their wedding. Jewelry was harder, but he wanted to get Draco jewelry, because in their almost two years together, he’d only ever given Draco a wedding ring. He wanted Draco to have more to show for their love than one ring.

            Harry really didn’t know what type of jewelry he should purchase, but once in the store, he fell in love with the idea of a pendant with birthstones in it intended for mothers. Draco was pregnant and therefore sure to love that sort of sentimental mush. Since the Malfoy family crest featured a serpent and the entire Malfoy family had been in Slytherin, Harry especially thought Draco would like the one cast in the shape of snakes; a parent and two children with the gems in the eyes. The shop keeper even promised to exchange out the bloodstone if the baby wasn’t born in March.

            Which clothes Harry was going to wear was also preplanned with attention to detail far beyond his usual. He wore the ones Draco liked best, making sure to have his new elf Hissy prepare them ahead of time. They were his nicest dress robes and combined with a haircut, made him look rather dashing. He went out of the way to get that haircut just that day so that styling his hair would be a professional’s problem and not his own.

            Draco was still accustomed to a rather early bedtime, so the date began just after lunch. Harry picked him up at the Manor, presenting him with the bouquet of flowers. He loved them and had a house elf put the flowers in a vase, before they flooed to the theater. The play was a bit of a tear jerker, but uplifting and entertaining at the same time. When the lights came back on for intermission, Harry noticed the tears on Draco’s face.

            “If you want to leave early, we can,” Harry offered, as he leaned in to wipe the tears away with his fingertips.

            “No, I’m fine. Just a little emotional is all,” Draco replied, pulling his handkerchief out of his pocket to dab at his face.

            “If you’re sure.”

            “I am. I could use a refreshment though.”

            “Will any of these do?” Harry asked, pulling a shrunken lunch pail out of his front breast pocket. He unshrunk it to reveal cold pumpkin juice, pretzels, sliced apples, and Draco’s favorite blueberry scones.

            “Is that pumpkin juice?” Draco asked pleasantly surprised, picking up the thermos full of juice.

            “Yes.”  
            Draco took a thirsty gulp. “You brought all this for me?”

            “Yes, but we can still buy some of the popcorn we saw outside if you’d like.”

            “Merlin no, I hate popped corn. Thanks.” Draco picked up and bit into a scone, moaning in appreciation.

            “Hissy made them.”

            “I knew there was something I liked about that elf.”

            “You were absolutely right about her; having her around has worked out great. My house is clean, my meals are edible, and she even watches Kreacher for me.”

            “Kreacher doesn’t mind having the younger elf around?”

            “No, if anything, he seems happier, probably because he still has the preferred spot in the kitchen and Hissy sleeps down in the cellar.”

            “Elves, like people, are not solitary creatures. They do better when there are more than one of their kind in a house.”

            “They do better when they have witches and wizards to serve, too,” Harry said, before going into a story about Hermione’s latest elf debacle as part of Fawley’s Department for the Protection of Magical Beings and Creatures.

            Hermione had managed to get a half dozen elves taken away. Their masters were the cruelest imaginable and were running a sweat shop and using the elves as slave labor. The living and working conditions were deplorable and the punishments barbaric. The elves were happy to be away from their masters, but soon became discontent with Hermione and began to waste away, refusing to eat. Eventually she realized that what all of the purebloods said about house elves needing to serve was true. She solved the problem by arranging for her elves to provide labor to the building of Wizarding primary schools.

            Draco laughed at Harry’s story and ate the snacks, before rushing off to the loo. He came back just as intermission was ending and the lights were going off once more. They finished the play and it turned out to be far better than the lousy reviews suggested, just as Harry thought it would be. It left them with a fuzzy warm feeling inside as the curtain went down and the lights turned back on.

            Being December, they bundled up in their warmest cloaks and caught a taxi to travel the short distance to the muggle ice cream parlor. Like the previous time they’d traveled in a car together, Draco was scared of riding inside the muggle contraption. To distract himself from the still unnerving ride in an automobile, he said, “I thought for certain you were going to take me to that horrible stuffy place by the theater.”

            “You don’t like that place?” Harry asked, inwardly cheering his decision regarding the restaurant.

            “No. Mother, Father, and I went there all of the time when I was a child and I always hated their food. It’s horribly greasy compared to the food at home and they put onions in everything. I hate onions.”

            Harry kept Draco talking about his childhood experiences with the horrible pureblood restaurant throughout the short drive to distract him from being scared of the car.

            “They even put relish and onions on their cheese sandwiches. Can you believe that?” Draco asked pulling his cloak close to him as they stepped out of the car onto the curb in front of the muggle restaurant. “Who puts _relish_ and _onions_ on a child’s _cheese_ sandwich?”

            “I don’t know, it sounds ghastly,” Harry replied as they walked inside. Truthfully he’d never had the combination, but would’ve eaten almost anything the Dursleys offered him.

            Mister Franks, the muggle owner of the shop, greeted them with a huge smile and a loud, “Hello Draco, good to see you again! How have you been?”

            Draco returned the greeting and made small talk with the muggle, introducing Harry as his husband. Harry offered a polite, “Hello,” and a courteous wave of the hand, but he was only too happy to be left alone with Draco.

            They ate burgers and ice cream cones, despite the cold weather and the snacks they’d had in the theater, and discussed the play. “You know, Harry, I’m rather impressed with your choice in play,” Draco revealed.

            “You are?”

            “Yes. Three months ago you would’ve balked at seeing something like that.”

            “Yes, well, I was wrong,” Harry said with a shrug of his shoulders. “I now know that everyone, even Death Eaters, deserve a second chance. That child wasn’t to blame for her parents’ mistakes, she wasn’t a Death Eater, and she shouldn’t have been punished for something she had no control over.”

            “You’ve come a long way.”

            “Does that mean you’ll agree to another date with me, Draco?” They locked eyes and Harry tried to convey how much he truly wanted Draco to say yes.

            “Possibly. I was actually thinking therapy would be the next logical step if this evening went well.”

            “Therapy?”

            “Yes, with a marriage counselor at St. Mungo’s. Would you agree to go to something like that?”

            “For you, Draco, I’d do anything.” Agreeing to counseling wasn’t a particularly big deal to Harry; he’d already agreed to the much steeper price of helping Lucius’ defense. In comparison to that, a little counseling was nothing.

            “Great. I’ll look into it then,” Draco concluded, before changing the subject. “Speaking of anything, how is that interview you promise me going?”

            “It’s going. I’ve been owling your father’s attorney going over the wording of the statement. He said he’d arrange the interview too, so that he can time it with some legal preceding that’s in the works.”

            Draco was very pleased to hear that, as evident from the giant smile that lit up his face. That answer was more than good enough for him, because their lawyer would know the best time to release the interview.

            Later, when it was time to take Draco home, Harry began to feel the burning of the pendant in his pocket. He’d forgotten it most of the date and when he had remembered, it hadn’t been the right time. Now, as they walked to Draco’s sitting room, he realized that his window of opportunity was closing. Who knew if there was ever to be a second date? He had to make this date memorable, so that Draco would want another. He had to give Draco the pendant.

            Draco took a seat on his chaise, clearly tired but leaning over to smell the flowers Harry had given him earlier. Harry stood in front of Draco, before going to his knees on the rug.

            “Um, Draco, I sort of, er, got you something,” Harry said pulling the small jewelry box out of his pocket and opening it up for Draco to see. In it was the snake pendant on a thin chain. “The gems in the eyes are birthstones. Alexandrite for you, the parent snake, and garnet and bloodstone for our children, the baby snakes. If this baby isn’t born in March, I can have the bloodstone changed out. I, er, hope you like it.”

            “I do. Put it on me?” Draco requested happily and Harry nodded his agreement.

            Harry held the chain around Draco’s neck, struggling to hook the delicate clasp, while fully aware of how close his face was to Draco’s face. He could feel Draco’s hot breath on his neck and see the pulse beating in Draco’s delicate throat. When he finally got it he said, “There,” and slowly adjusted his position until he could see Draco’s face. Draco looked pleased and open to more contact, so Harry leaned in and gently pressed his lips to his husband’s.

            Draco deepened the kiss and Harry let him for several minutes, before pulling back and saying, “No. You said our relationship is only about sex and children, so I am going to prove you wrong. I want you without sex.”

            “If that’s what you want,” Draco acquiesced, dropping his hands from Harry’s shoulders to his own lap.

            “It is. We can kiss and be intimate in other ways, but I want to hold out on sex itself. It’s past your normal bedtime, so you should lie down,” Harry said and Draco nodded his agreement, before holding out his hand for Harry’s assistance. They walked to Draco’s room and Draco sat on his bed. “I’ll retrieve Eiona from your mum and go back to my place. I enjoyed myself tonight and I hope we can do this again sometime soon.”

            Draco yawned and nodded, saying only, “Goodnight.”

            Harry had hoped Draco would agree to a second date then and there, so he was somewhat disappointed that Draco hadn’t. But at least there was counseling to look forward to; that was clearly a step in the right direction if they were going to rebuild their marriage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who offered ideas for therapy topics! The next chapter will be their first session and if I don’t get to your ideas, don’t worry, because they will be in therapy probably until towards the end of this story, so they will get to everything eventually.


	19. Chapter19

            It was Cissy who handed Harry the information for the marriage counselor Draco chose. She did so after dinner a few days later when he was picking up his daughter from the Manor. He was happy Draco was so eager for this, because it meant Draco was serious about giving their marriage another try. At the same time, he had no experience with counselors, having refused to go, even after the war. He’d always been able to handle things on his own. But if this would help their marriage, he wanted to give it his best effort.

            “They want to see both of you individually first, before the initial couple’s session. Draco will be going in tomorrow. You should make you appointment for as soon as possible so that the two of you can be seen together before the holidays,” Cissy said.

            Tucking the card with the pertinent information into his robes’ pocket, Harry said, “Thank you. I was sort of hoping we _could_ do this over the holidays when I’m already off. I don’t want to take much time off work so that I can take off when the baby comes, but I’ll figure something out.”

            “They won’t do any intake sessions over the holidays, but if you have that done first, they do offer their usual weekly sessions over the holidays.”

            “Great! I’ll see what I can do.”

            “About the holidays, Harry, have you and my son discussed your plans?”

            “No…”

            “Well you need to. I assume you will want to spend time with Eiona on Christmas too.”

            “Yes, I do. Last year worked out great with you coming over to my place in the morning, spending time with you and Lucius at the hospital around noon, and then us going over to the Burrow in the evening.”

            “You were married then. Now you are separated. That changes things.”

            Harry slapped himself in the face and groaned, realizing what this was going to do to the Christmas morning he’d been picturing. It wouldn’t be like last year when the three of them woke up early to happily tear into their presents. He might not even have Eiona in the morning. He might wake up alone, with no one but Kreacher and Hissy in his lonely house.

            “Alright, I’ll talk to him about it,” Harry said.

            “Good. Eiona is packed and ready,” Cissy said handing the nappy bag over, ending the conversation.

            Harry took the bag and his daughter home. He wanted to send an owl off with a letter to the marriage counselor asking about appointment availability, but without Draco around, he had no owl to send.

            “That’s it; I’m asking for a new owl for Christmas,” Harry told his Eiona.

            Dozens of people had already asked if they could get him one, but he’d always refused, because the memory of Hedwig ate him up inside when he thought about getting a new one. But this was the house elf situation all over again and if getting a new elf could turn out alright, then getting a new owl could too.

            “Awl?” Eiona asked, looking up at Harry with her wide green eyes.

            “Yes, owl. I lost my Hedwig during the war, you know. She died protecting me.” Harry didn’t know if his child understood half the things he said, but she looked at him with understanding and reached out with her arms wide open for a hug. He hugged back, nuzzling into her growing blond hair.

            In the end, Harry waited until the next day when he had a break at work to fire-call the marriage counselor. Draco must’ve gone out of his way to find someone who worked evenings and weekends to fit into Harry’s schedule, because Madam Harris worked eleven to seven Wednesday through Friday and nine to three on weekends. She even had a timeslot open that Friday that he could make. He booked it and later he let Cissy know that he was going to be late picking Eiona up on Friday.

            During the hour long introductory session, Madam Harris asked Harry to tell her about his life, his marriage, and his feelings. She was a middle aged greying witch who wore her hair in an old-fashioned up-do with square-rimmed glasses and a kind, open face. She gave off the impression that she was genuinely interested in listening to anything he had to say. She wanted to know everything from Harry’s deplorable childhood with the Dursleys, to his defeat of Voldemort, to his job at the Ministry, but what they spent the most time on was his marriage. He relayed the events, feelings, and thoughts that led up to him asking for a divorce and everything that happened since, including why he’d changed his mind.

            Harry had gone into the session nervous and anxious, dreading what Madam Harris might say or do. He and Draco were basically giving the power to moderate their marriage to this woman. If she didn’t like him, then she quite possibly could encourage Draco to leave him. She had the power to speed the divorce along or slow it down, based on what she said to Draco about him. But after an hour he felt much more calm and relaxed about the idea. The witch seemed fair and unbiased and if he played his cards right, he just might be able to get her on his side.

            The first joint appointment with both Harry and Draco was that Sunday afternoon. Harry was nervous again, fidgeting in an armchair while Draco lay back on the nearby sofa. Madam Harris sat in the other armchair, her notepad and quill in hand. There was a tea service on the end table between Harry and Draco. Draco had poured himself a cup, fixed it to his liking, and left it to cool. Harry hadn’t bothered, not wanting his slightly shaking hands to betray his nerves.

            “Alright, if you are both ready to start, I have a recommendation with where we should begin,” Madam Harris said and they nodded. “Harry, Draco has expressed his concerns with the reason why you want to call off the divorce and continue the marriage. He feels that you are only interested because of his pregnancy and that once this baby is born, the two of you will slip back into the way things were before. Can you understand why Draco feels this way, Harry?”

            “Um…” Harry said, trying to think about it. “He thinks I only want him for our kids, but that’s not true.”

            “Why _do_ you want him, Harry?”

            “I don’t know. I just _do_. I miss him. He’s hot and funny and a good father. My life was so much more fun when he was around. I was happy and I want that back. He made me feel good,” Harry answered, remembering to include his feelings, because Madam Harris always seemed to want to know.

            “But you said your life wasn’t fun anymore when you told me you wanted the divorce,” Draco interjected.

            “It wasn’t. It was before. It was brilliant before we got married, but when your father got sick, it became less fun. It was still good most of the time, but it was stressful. It didn’t get bad until after our anniversary.”

            “When I started experiencing pregnancy symptoms in combination with my hypoglycemia,” Draco supplied.

            “Yes, but I didn’t know that was what was going on. I didn’t know it was temporary and would go away with proper treatment. I thought the rest of our lives were going to be like that. I feared things would keep getting worse,” Harry said.

            “So what you are saying, Harry, is that you decided to divorce Draco, because the two of you were going through a rough patch and you thought that it was permanent?” Madam Harris asked.

            “Yes,” Harry answered.

            “And if you had known, Harry, that the rough patch was temporary, you wouldn’t have asked for a divorce; you would have stayed in the marriage and tried to work through it?” Madam Harris asked and Harry agreed. “And if another rough patch were to hit in the future, when the children are all grown up and out of the house, you would still stay? You wouldn’t want out when the children are no longer there tying you to him?”

            “Yes, I’d stay. I love our children and I’m thrilled about the new baby, but they aren’t the only reason I want Draco. I’d still want him without them around. I love _him_.”

            “But your daughter was the reason you two came together in the first place,” Madam Harris said.

            “Yes, she is the reason why Draco ended up staying with me, but her existence isn’t what made me fall in love with him,” Harry insisted.

            “Then what did?” Madam Harris asked.

            “Him! His gorgeous face and hot body drew me in initially, but it was _him_ that I fell in love with and _him_ that I was obsessed with in school. His snarky zingers used to drive me crazy until I started craving them.”

            “What was your obsession like in school?”

            “I was always drawn to him, even first year my days seemed to revolve around him. I looked for him at mealtimes, just to see what he was doing. Whenever I saw him in the hallways, my entire attention was instantly drawn to him. I’d spend entire days thinking about my last encounter with him. We were always fighting and arguing, it’s true, but it was _fun_ arguing with him. He was the most interesting person I knew.”

            “Draco, how did you feel about Harry in school?” Madam Harris asked.

            “I thought he was a rude, self-centered, conceited git, but he was still the highlight of my day,” Draco answered.

            “Good, it’s mutual. Now let’s get back to the issue of the divorce. The Daily Prophet raised an interesting point about the possibility that Draco might someday develop Motor Neurone disease, like his father. The Prophet suggested, Harry, that if Draco were to be diagnosed with an incurable fatal disease, you would leave him. What do you have to say to that Harry?”

            “It’s absurd. First of all, Motor Neurone disease isn’t fatal, it’s treatable. Lucius is proof of that. Secondly, Draco won’t have it. Just because it runs in his family, doesn’t mean he’ll get it,” Harry answered.

            “You don’t know that,” Draco replied softly, looking down to avoid making eye contact.”

            “I know it. Draco, look at me,” Harry requested and waited until Draco looked up. “You are not your father. You won’t have your father’s disease. Eiona won’t have it either. You will both be fine, I _know_ it.”

            “How can you know that?” Draco asked.

            “I just _do_. I feel it deep down inside. You may have hypoglycemia, but you do _not_ have Motor Neurone disease.”

            “Harry, I realize you may feel that way, but you still haven’t answered the question. What if, twenty years in the future, Draco was diagnosed with a fatal disease? What if he was doomed to a slow, painful decline and eventually death? Would you stay with him?”

            “Yes. I’d take care of him. I made the mistake of not realizing he needed help before, but I won’t do it again. Next time I’ll make sure he sees a healer right away and I’ll take care of him. Maybe I’ll need a nurse to help me if he’s really sick, especially if the children are young, but I’ll still be there for him. I’ll take care of him myself as much as possible. I won’t leave him; I won’t make that mistake again.”

            “Draco, do accept Harry’s answer? Do you feel that he means it?” Madam Harris asked. Harry waited, looking at Draco, with baited breath for the answer. Draco nodded and Harry let out a sigh of relief. “Is there anything else either of you would like to say about this issue, or are you ready to move on to the next one?” They both indicated that they were ready to move on. “Alright, next I would like to discuss Draco’s problem with communication. I think a lot of the unhappiness Harry was feeling could have been avoided if you, Draco had done a better job communicating with him. You didn’t always have problems telling him how you feel, Draco. From what you both told me, you used to have no trouble insulting him at school, correct?”

            Draco nodded. “Yes, but exchanging insults and hexes isn’t exactly good communication in a relationship,” Harry added and Draco chuckled.

            “That is true, but at least back then Draco felt confident in expressing himself, Harry. He and I talked in depth about this issue during our initial meeting. It seems to me that this issue with communication started after the war when he came to live with you. The dynamic of your relationship shifted dramatically then, did it not?” Madam Harris asked.

            “Yes,” Harry confirmed. “He stopped insulting me and causing problems. He was just quiet and kept to himself at first.”

            “That has to do with that fact that you had just won the war, Harry, while his side had lost. He was an accused Death Eater relegated to your custody. You were no longer equals; you had power over him,” Madam Harris replied.

            “But I never made him do anything. I didn’t tell him he had to keep his mouth shut. I didn’t treat him like a prisoner or force him to change. He was a bloody awful Death Eater; he never liked killing or torturing. He’s just not that sort of person. That’s why after the war he switched sides.”

            “No, that is why he resisted orders to hurt and kill, but his family is why he switched. The Malfoy family has long believed that it is important to be on the winning side. When it became clear that He Who Must Not Be Named was not going to win, they began to prepare to switch sides. That is why they didn’t fight in the final battle and why after the war, Draco did his best to acclimate to your side. He was raised to believe in pureblood supremacy and he had to relearn a great many things rather quickly when he came to live with you. Everything he thought he knew was wrong and he did his best to pick up what you believe and to think your thoughts. Do you see how that led to this unevenness between the two of you?”

            Harry had never thought of it like that before, but now he did. He thought of what it must’ve been like for Draco, alone, scared, and pregnant in the house of his once sworn enemy. The hopelessness that he’d feel if he were in Draco’s place, stuck in Draco’s house, and faced with forgetting everything he knew in favor of the beliefs of the winning side. He’d never stand for it. He wouldn’t throw out his belief in muggle rights in favor of pureblood supremacy, just because his side had lost. But the reverse was just what Draco had done, despite generations upon generations of Malfoy teaching.

            “That must’ve been very hard for him,” Harry finally answered softly. He felt he should turn and say it to Draco, but he didn’t quite have the courage to look at Draco at the moment. He feared that he had somehow brainwashed Draco and made Draco believe his beliefs. And if he looked at Draco now, he might just see that horrible truth on Draco’s face.

            “Yes, it was hard for him, but he did it. You, Draco, are a very strong person to pull through that. But, the consequence of your change and your incarceration is that you saw yourself at a lower position than Harry when you entered into a relationship with him. You were on unequal footing from the beginning and that was perpetuated in your marriage. That is why you have trouble communicating with him now. If you disagree, your first instinct is that you are wrong and should try to keep your mouth shut. That has caused Harry to be unaware of when there is something wrong. He doesn’t know what he does that hurts your feelings. He doesn’t know what he’s doing wrong. This communication issue, I feel, is the critical issue that the two of you must overcome to create a balanced and healthy marriage,” Madam Harris said.

            Harry looked at Draco then, locking eyes, and said, “Draco, now that I think about it, you’ve changed so much for me. I didn’t ask it and you shouldn’t have had to ask it of me; obviously I’m not as smart as you. I didn’t realize there was a problem. But now that I do, I vow to you that I will do everything I can to learn to understand your culture. There are a lot of things I don’t like about it, but there are a lot of good things too. I want to learn about all those good things. I want to do that with you, together, because I love you.”

            “I think the two of you have made real progress today. I want to see you both back for another joint meeting next week. And Draco, we have another one of our individual appointments already on the schedule, correct?” Madam Harris asked and Draco nodded. “Then we’re all set for today.”

            “Wait, he has another individual appointment? Do I need another one too?” Harry asked.

            “Yes, and no. He has one and you do not need one.”

            “Why?”

            “Because your husband has issues that I feel it would be best to work on individually at the moment. If and when you need a little extra help, then we can meet without him. But for now, I think you’ve shown great initiative on your own. Enjoy your holiday.”

            Harry accepted that answer. Then farewells were exchanged and Harry and Draco left together for Malfoy Manor. Harry still had to pick up their daughter, but he would’ve saw Draco home either way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our boys have finally made it to therapy! It will continue in the background probably throughout the end of the story, with frequent snippets and the occasional full chapter devoted to it. So, if there is ever something that happens that you think they need to talk over, please let me know. I have the emotional range of a teaspoon, so I am really going to need help with this therapy thing.  
> Up next will be Christmas. Please Review!


	20. Chapter20

        They had their second therapy session in the days before Christmas. The topic their therapist Madam Harris wanted to discuss was why Draco expected Harry to be any different from when they married. If Harry was a selfish prick who was an arse to Draco’s friends and family before, why should Harry be any different now? In agreeing to marry, they were agreeing to accept each other as they were, with all of their faults and flaws.

        At first Harry thought this topic was going to be to his advantage, because Madam Harris was basically telling him it was okay to be an inconsiderate prick. But then Draco managed to turn the tide with his very first sentence.

        “Because he wants me back,” Draco answered. “He initiated the divorce. He broke the contract that we’d agreed upon. If he wants to reinstate it, then there are going to have to be some changes. I won’t be going through the same situation again. If there is going to be a next time, he needs to be the type of person who will consider my feelings and discuss our problems with me. Otherwise, there’s no point in going forward.

        “That’s what we need to work on then?” Harry asked. “Building a stronger marriage.”

        “And a healthier one too,” the therapist added and Draco agreed.

        For most of that session, they discussed everything Harry had done to show he could change and how they felt about it all, down to every last little emotion. Madam Harris was pleased with his effort, but advised him that this couldn’t just be a onetime thing. For the rest of their lives together, he would have to continue to make an effort to get to know the people in Draco’s life and to not judge them prematurely. Every little decision from now on needed to be made with the question of, “How would Draco feel about this?” in the back of his mind. And for the big decisions, he would forever more have to stop and ask Draco to make the decision with him. It was a lot to take in and process, but he thought he could do it.

        At the end, they discussed a subject of Harry’s choosing. “What are we going to do about Christmas and Eiona’s birthday this year?” he asked.

        “Well I’ll wake up with her at the Manor and do presents. We’ll visit my father around lunchtime. You’re welcome to pick her up after that,” Draco offered.

        “But I want to be there in the morning when she wakes up,” Harry replied.

        It took some discussion, but eventually they agreed that Harry could spend the night at the Manor in one of the spare bedrooms. They would spend the morning together and Harry could take Eiona to the Weasleys for Christmas supper. The Malfoys would take Eiona to visit Lucius without Harry, leaving him free to visit with his friends. Harry was happy with the plan; the only possible snag was that Draco’s immediate family was coming over for Christmas brunch at the Manor. Teddy and Dromeda wouldn’t be a problem, but Mr. and Mrs. Black could potentially throw a wrench into the works.

        As for Eiona’s birthday, they decided on a small children’s party and an outing. Draco wanted to have the party at the Manor and invite his relatives. Harry wanted it to be at the Weasleys, so that it’d be easier for all of his family to come. Eventually they compromised on having it at Grimmauld Place and inviting people they knew with young children, instead of fighting over which adults had to be there. Grimmauld Place contained limited space and they didn’t have the time to throw a big party, making it was necessary to limit the guest list, so they agreed to invite equal numbers of children from each side.

        The location for the family outing was left open, because neither of them knew a place where they wanted to go. Draco was too tired to think of anywhere, while Harry placed too much emphasis on this outing to choose quickly. The significance of this being their first family outing with the three of them since he had initiated the divorce was not lost on Harry. It would be like a family date, so it had to be perfect. It had to be a place both Draco and Eiona would enjoy. 

* * *

        The following day, when Harry went to pick Eiona up, Draco said, “I’ve decided where we should take Eiona for her birthday.”

        “Where’s that?” Harry asked.

        “To see the Children’s Magical Puppet Theater up in Yorkshire. Mother and Father took me when I was little,” Draco answered.

        “A puppet show?” Harry tried not to let his disappointment show through.

        “Yes. Why? Where were you thinking?”

        “I was leaning towards the Children’s park in Kent or the magical zoo over in Wales. Or maybe even have a garden tea party in Neville’s greenhouse. Something with a bit more action.”

        “We could do both; the puppet show and then the park,” Draco compromised.

        There was some more discussion of the details, but they soon agreed. They would see a short puppet show and then apparate over to the park.

* * *

 

        Christmas morning dawned a bit too early for Draco and Eiona. Harry woke up in one of the many spare bedrooms at Malfoy Manor and found that he was alone with the elves, for the other human inhabitants were in the habit of sleeping in past his usual wake up time. That was to be expected, because he worked and had to get up at a certain time, while the Malfoys were free to sleep in.

        Eiona was the second one awake. She was normally a rather early riser, but if truth be told, Harry’s constant peeping into her room to see if she was awake just might have been what woke her that morning.

        Cissy appeared mere minutes later, dressed in her nightgown and wrapped in a robe. “Oh Harry, you’re up. Happy Christmas.”

        “Happy Christmas,” Harry returned merrily.

        “Appee ima!” Eiona copied. “My alarm on Eiona went off, but if you have her, then I’ll just go dress,” Cissy said.

        Harry waved his mother-in-law off and saw to his daughter himself. He changed her nappy and took her to the dining room for breakfast. The Malfoys were having brunch, but they didn’t expect a not quite two-year-old to wait, so she was fed. Since Harry wasn’t planning on sticking around for brunch, he ate too. She got her mashed cereal in her golden blond curls, so afterwards he cleaned her up and dressed her in her Christmas robes. Then he let her free and followed her around the nursery as she explored.

        There was one lone black ant in the nursery and sure enough Eiona found it. She had a fascination with the insects and she bent down, her bum thrust out, to get a better look. Harry watched her eyes follow the ant across the wall. When it reached the bookcase filled with sturdy cardboard books, crawling over the wooden surface, she squealed in excitement, a look of pure joy on her face, and jumped up into the air. Then she scooted over and bent down to watch again.

        “Really, another ant Eiona?” Harry asked in fond amusement. He tried to keep the critters out of Grimmauld Place, but they inevitably snuck in and when they did, he loved to watch his daughter react to them.

        A young house elf appeared with a sudden pop and said, “Little Mistress Ipheion is not to be playing with Ants. Mistress Narcissa told Dotty to make sure Little Mistress is not playing with the ants.”

        “Yes, thank you Dotty. I can handle it from here,” Harry said.

        “Dotty is to be killing all ants in the Manor, sir.”

        “Do you have to? Eiona is enjoying this one so much.”

        “Dotty will be a bad elf if Dotty doesn’t follow Mistress Narcissa’s orders, sir. Dotty will have to be punished, sir.”

        Because the elf was still so young and because she was Dobby’s daughter, Harry decided to cut her some slack and let her do her job. He picked Eiona up, saying, “Come on Princess, let’s go to the sitting room. She of course cried at first in protest over being taken away from her ant. “Of all of the toys in that nursery and you want to play with the ant. Drives your father crazy you know, but Daddy bought you something special to play with that I think you’re going to like. Only I want to wait for Father to open presents. How about you find something in here to get into until he wakes up?”

        Eiona still wasn’t as happy as when she had the ant to watch, but she soon became distracted with a dish of candies. At first she picked them up clumsily in her little hands and popped them into her mouth, but soon she dumped the entire bowl over her head and sat down in the resulting pile. Worried they would melt into her clothes and hair, Harry then went about extracting the child out of the candies, Dotty appearing again to help with the task.

        “What’s going on in here?” Cissy asked entering the room, a large smile on her face.

        Harry explained about the candies, to which Cissy reassured that they had a melt-proof charm on them. She then produced a thick candy cane for Eiona, scooped her granddaughter up, and smothered her in kisses and Christmas greetings. She wanted to begin opening presents, but he wanted to wait for Draco, and Eiona was too little to know what was being discussed and that she was being delayed. Ultimately they ended up waiting.

        Draco rolled out of bed around nine and since everyone was waiting on him, he was escorted out to the main living room before he could dress. Unlike the sitting room, the main living room was decorated from floor to ceiling with Christmas baubles, charms, and boughs of evergreen. There was one giant tree under which were tucked the presents. They set Eiona loose, assuming she’d go for the presents, only to have to pull her back from pulling shiny baubles off of the tree.

        “Let’s try a present this time, eh Eiona?” Draco asked, handing a package over.

        The toddler had little interest in the package, pulling away towards the shiny tree again. Harry pulled her back and sat her down on the sofa between him and Draco, Cissy seated on a nearby armchair. Draco tried again with the present and had to show her how to tear into it before she got the idea. She unveiled the doll and threw it aside so that she could crinkle and crumple the paper; she tried a few times to put it in her mouth, but each time her parents stopped her, pulling her hands and the paper they carried away from her mouth.

        Harry retrieved the doll and removed it from its remaining packaging to show to Eiona. This time she took the doll, hugged it, and tossed it aside, because Cissy was spelling over a large box, which caught her attention. She jumped up and banged on the side of the box with two flat hands. They helped her open this one as well, which was a swing to hang from one of the trees out in the garden. Eiona, who didn’t know what it was, settled for climbing into the large box and throwing paper up into the air.

        “We should have bought you only the paper and box the way you’re going today,” Draco told his daughter lovingly.

        “Well maybe that’s just because she hasn’t gotten what she wanted yet. I think she’ll like my present better,” Harry said, pulling out one of the gift bags he’d left there the night before and handing it over to Eiona.

        Draco helped the toddler pull out the tissue paper on top to reveal a set of four toy ants. Each ant was different, between two and four inches long, and composed of three colorful pieces that could be popped apart and rejoined. They had a bit of give to them, but were mostly firm. Each piece was too large for a child to get fully into the mouth, to prevent choking hazards in such young children.

        “An’!” Eiona cried, grasping at one of the ants and trying to pull it out from the set.

        “Just a second, Sweetheart,” Draco said, spelling the packaging away and leaving four ants behind in the bag.

        Eiona picked up the largest blue ant and the smallest pink ant at the same time, one in each hand and each hand going invariable towards her opened mouth.

        Draco picked up the second smallest ant, which was orange, and said jokingly, “This one must be the daddy ant.”

        “No the blue one in the daddy ant,” Harry replied, picking up the remaining medium sized purple ant.

        “No, the blue one in the father ant. You have the grandmother ant and the baby ant is the pink one,” Draco retorted.

        “I think this one is supposed to be the mum ant, actually. Only ants don’t have mums and dads, but colonies and the babies are larvae,” Harry said.

        “Thank you ever so much for the lesson on ants, Harry. You are obviously where our daughter gets this affliction from,” Draco replied teasingly.

        Harry smiled, glad they could resume their former easy teasing and thinking that it must be a sign that they were headed in the right direction. “Hey, what makes you think it’s an affliction?”

        “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it’s because they bite her?” Draco’s tone was sarcastic, but still happy.

        “Well on with the presents. She has an entire pile to get through,” Harry said, hoping to change the subject. He had indeed played with ants as a child, although whether that was by choice or out of necessary from having so few toys, he didn’t want to get into.

        “I doubt you are going to get her interested in anything else right now; she seems rather enthralled with her ants,” Cissy said, picking up a pair of packages and handing one each to Harry and Draco. “Perhaps we adults could open a few of ours.”

        They seconded that idea and each opened their gifts to reveal his and his night robes, pajamas, and slippers sets. The designs weren’t the same, but the fabrics matched and went well together. Draco’s were even spelled to expand with pregnancy and contract afterwards. They each thanks Cissy, before moving on to the rest of the gifts. Draco had gotten Harry a fancy pocket watch and some new ties and Harry gave Draco a massage chair. Draco gave Cissy a framed family portrait of the four of them. Harry gave her a scrapbooking kit, because he knew she enjoyed keeping photo albums and thought that she might like the muggle way of embellishing them.

        “Thank you Harry, but whatever is it for?” Cissy asked pleasantly, looking at her kit.

        “It’s for decorating photo albums. It’s all the rage with muggles, but you can use sticking charms and spellotape to paste the decorations in,” Harry replied, taking his eye away from his shiny new pocket watch to explain. But then his eye went right back to his gift and he wondered at how much expense and trouble Draco had gone to for it. It wasn’t that it was a costly piece that had him so pleased, but the phrase Draco had engraved on the back, ‘For my love, eternally yours—Draco.’

        It was possible that the watch had been commissioned months and months in advance, long before their marital troubles had gotten out of hand, but something like an engraving could be easily changed. Even if Draco had ordered it before, he at least hadn’t bothered changing it. That meant he meant it now, currently, which brought a giant smile to Harry’s face and had his stomach fluttering in a good way. Harry snuck a shy smile Draco’s way, but Draco was too busy to notice, trying out his new chair and all sixty-two massage options. Being pregnant, Draco was eager for a back massage, which was a good indication that Harry’s gift was well received.

        A while later they managed to get Eiona away from her toy ants long enough to open her other presents. It was a large pile, but she got through it before eleven when the Blacks arrived. Andy and Teddy were first to arrive, stepping through the floo. Teddy, who was into anything that could fly, was clutching a new toy airplane the size of a handball.

        As soon as Teddy saw the Malfoys, his hair colored shifted from forest green to blond. Andy had another present for Eiona and they had a small pile for Teddy. Harry was watching Teddy open up the set of flying cars he’d given him when as elf announced that there were visitors at the front door. Shortly after, Dobson showed the Blacks into the room, introducing them formally.

        “Hello. Happy Christmas, Madam Black, Mister Black,” Harry greeted, unsure what to expect from Draco’s grandparents.

        “I see my grandson is easy to forgive. I am not quite so forgiving,” Druella said stonily in response to Harry’s greeting.

        “It’s good to see you again,” Cygnus said, with an air that conveyed the hidden message of, ‘Don’t mind the wife.’

        “Mother, Father, brunch will start it just a moment. Do let’s go through to the formal dining room,” Cissy said, jumping in to defuse the tension.

        “And er, I have to go. I’ll be back later for Eiona,” Harry said.

        Luna and Neville had both requested Harry stop by. It was a welcomed excuse to avoid Draco’s grandmother, because there was no telling what she would say to him. Druella was in her usual dower mood. Thus he was glad he’d arranged to stop for a visit with his friends around midday.

        Harry said his farewells, kissing both Teddy and Eiona and leaving them with extra hugs, before apparating away. He spent the next few hours at Neville’s house with a number of their old friends from Hogwarts, including Luna, Dean, and Seamus. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny stopped by for a bit, but he was going to see them later, so he didn’t stir from his game of exploding snap with Dean for more than a wave.

        In the middle of the Christmas carols, led by Luna, Harry suddenly realized that this was not where he wanted to be. His family would be visiting Lucius about now and he couldn’t help but think about it. Lucius’ after Christmas lunch was where he’d been for the last two Christmases, it was where his family was without him, and where he wanted to be. He couldn’t give a rat’s fart about singing these boring old songs. Thus he thanked Neville for inviting him and left.

        Apparating to the outside of the Secure Treatment Facility, Harry made his way inside, allowing himself to be checked over by the guard.

        “I didn’t think I’d be seeing you here today, Auror Potter,” Henley said as he performed the standard magical screening on Harry. Henley was one of the regular guards so they recognized each other.

        “I didn’t think I’d be coming. Is my family already here?” Harry asked.

        “Yes; arrived five minutes prior to yourself. Surrender your wand and you’re all clear; go on through.”

        “Thanks Henley,” Harry said, passing over his wand and stepping passed the security checkpoint. It was all standard procedure that he was familiar with.

        And then Harry was running in the direction of Lucius’ room, down the hallway and through a side corridor and ignoring the fact that running wasn’t allowed in here. He just had to get to Draco and Eiona and protocol didn’t matter. He was, however, delayed upon reaching Lucius’ room, by the security guard working the area. Harry was forced to sign the log book before allowed through Lucius’ door.

        All heads turned to the door as Harry opened it apprehensively, hoping that he’d be welcome. He caught Draco’s eyes, saw Draco smile, and returned the smile. He entered the room fully and exchanged joyous greetings with everyone, including Lucius. He had an especially large hug for Eiona, who squealed with delight at seeing him again, even though it’d just been that morning.

        “Harry, I wasn’t expecting to see you here today,” Lucius said. He had had a few choice words for his son-in-law about the divorce when Harry had first come around again, volunteering with the patients. But once he’d said his peace that was it and their relationship went back to normal.

        “Well, er, I wasn’t expecting to come; I just felt like I had to be here. I didn’t want to miss it,” Harry replied.

        “We’re glad to have you with us,” Cissy said.

        “Thanks,” Harry replied, feeling at home with the Malfoys. If you asked him three years ago, he never would’ve thought that he would, but he did.

        “It’s good to see you here with the family. I hope this is a sign that things are looking up,” Lucius said pointedly.

        “I want them to be,” Harry replied.

        “Well that is a start,” Lucius replied. “Now, I was just about to hand out the crafts that we prisoners are allowed to make as pittance for our families. Eiona, perhaps you can help your grandfather? They are in that red box over there.”

        Lucius pointed to a red box, which Draco aimed Eiona at and encouraged her to grab. Eiona pulled it down and then began pulling out handmade ornaments. They each had nametags on them, so as Eiona threw them on the floor behind her, Cissy took them and passed them over to the proper recipient. There was even a red and white beaded candy cane for Harry, which he thanked Lucius for.

        Later, when Cissy and Draco took Eiona out to get juice and biscuit for everyone, Harry had a moment alone with Lucius.

        “Harry, I want to know whether you’ve thought about what I said regarding duty to one's family and respect for one's spouse,” Lucius said, eyeing Harry sternly and implying that these issues needed to be address if Harry was back together with his son.

        Lucius was referring to a lecture he had given Harry about family duty and respect. In truth the lecture wasn’t all that different from the one Arthur Weasley gave Harry and was surprisingly neutral, despite the fact that Lucius made it clear that Harry wasn’t doing right by Draco or Eiona. The major differences between the two speeches was Lucius’ emphasis on public opinion and keeping up appearances.

        “Yes, I have. I am going to do a better job with both in the coming year, sir, I promise,” Harry replied.

        “Glad to hear it son.” And then Lucius went off about public appearance and Malfoy family honor, again. Harry was used to the speech and simply listened quietly, nodding along where appropriate, his mind drifting to the joyful look on Eiona’s face when she played with her toy ants.

        Visiting hour went well and afterwards, Harry and Eiona followed Draco and Cissy back to the Manor. He was supposed to take her to the Weasleys now, but he wanted to see Draco home and have a chance to say farewell in private. Cissy seemed to know and took Eiona off to the nursery, in order to “pack a bag”, despite the fact that Harry knew full well that the bag had been packed last night.

        Draco led Harry to his sitting room and sat on his favorite chaise. “Thank you for a lovely holiday, Harry,” he said, surprising Harry. It seemed they had managed to work things out well enough to enjoy their time together.

        “You’re very welcome,” Harry replied, leaning down to share a farewell kiss.

        Harry then retrieved Eiona from Cissy and flooed to the Weasleys for the usual Christmas dinner. All of the Weasleys would be there, including Victoire, but he planned on keeping the little veela away from his daughter, remembering the last time Victoire had gone harpy on him. He was so busy looking around the room, verifying that Victoire wasn’t in it that he missed the proverbial elephant in the room. It was just George, Ron, and Hermione in the room at the moment along with an...

        “Awl!” Eiona cried, jumping in Harry’s arms and throwing her body in the direction of the birdcage on the side of the room. Inside was a common tawny colored barn owl.

        “Oh yeah, Harry, he’s from me and Hermione,” Ron said, stepping towards the owl cage.

        “We’re glad you are finally ready to get past Hedwig. She was a wonderful bird…” Hermione said, coming to stand by Ron’s side and wrapping her arms around her boyfriend’s waist.

        “But it’s time for another wonderful bird,” Ron finished.

        “He’s wonderful, you two. Thank you,” Harry said, carrying Eiona closer to the cage.

        “It’s a boy. What are you going to name him?” Ron asked.

        “It’s a boy Eiona. What should we name him?” Harry asked his daughter.

        “Awl,” Eiona replied.

        “Awl, as in Awlbus? George asked from the other side of the room.”

        “How about that, Eiona, Albus?” Harry asked.

        “Awl,” Eiona agreed, nodding her head enthusiastically and making her blond curls bounce.

        “This is really great you two. Since I have to have a second owl, I’m glad it came from my second and third friends, ever, just like Hedwig came from my first friend ever,” Harry said, opening up the arm not hold Eiona to hug Hermione. Hermione wrapped both of her arms around them in return. Ron piled on top, wrapping his arms around all three of them.

        “Speaking of Hagrid, he’s coming over soon, so make sure he sits in that chair. It’s the only one magically reinforced to support his weight,” George added, pointing to a rather large empty chair.

        “Harry, Eiona is nodding off on you. Has she had a nap?” Hermione asked as they pulled away from the hug.

        Harry took a look at the chair George was pointing to, before looking down at his daughter. “Ah, not yet,” he replied.

        “Here, let me take her upstairs,” Hermione said taking the child off of Harry.

        “Er, thanks Hermione. Just remember-”

        “Yes, I know Harry, no playing with Victoire. I’ve been slashed myself,” Hermione replied with an amused smile and Harry nodded.

        “That little Vicky makes me not want to have kids,” Ron confided in Harry’s ear.

        “Fleur swears that the monsters get better with age and become capable of controlling their rage. Bill reckons not so much, from his experience with Fleur,” George added, stepping closer now that it was just the three blokes.

        Ron shuddered and added, “But at least the claw marks from Fleur heal.”

        “Still, makes me think twice about sidling up to one of her cousins,” George said and Ron nodded.

        “Right, but aren’t you worried she’ll hear you?” Harry asked.

        “Nope; Bill and ‘em aren’t expected until later,” Ron replied.

        “Mum requested that Vicky only be brought over in the morning or after naptime from now on. She and Dad don’t heal as fast as they used to,” George added.

        “And Bill knows how the other parents feel about having Vicky around. He says he understands and wouldn’t want his kid around Vicky either,” Ron said.

        “Yeah, I know he’s apologized to Draco and me about it; Dromeda said he apologized to her about a scratch she gave Teddy. She said Teddy thought it was funny up until she actually scratched him,” Harry said.

        “Hagrid loves her though. She’s welcome with him anytime. He’s practically the only non-veela they can get to babysit,” George said.

        “I can imagine,” Harry replied, nodding. “Where’s everyone else? I’ve got a load of presents in this bag.” He indicated the knapsack he had in addition to Eiona’s nappy bag.

        “Angelina and Lee were here for breakfast; they couldn’t come for dinner,” George said.

        “Charlie is taking a nap, on account of the time difference from Romania. Ginny said he was up at three this morning and couldn’t sleep,” Ron explained.

        “Ginny went ‘round to Neville’s with her boyfriend Michael,” George continued.

        “Percy and his girlfriend aren’t expected until dinner,” Ron added.

        “Dad’s in the kitchen keeping an eye on things; said he wants to be here when Hagrid shows up, to make sure the chair holds,” George said.

        “And Mum’s resting, after a marathon in the kitchen. Come on, you should see the tray of pies she’s made,” Ron said, leading Harry towards the kitchen.

        George followed and together the three wizards entered the kitchen, where Arthur was bent over an oven, basting a ham.

        “Ah, Harry! Good to see you!” Arthur said jovially. He put down his baster and took off his oven mitts before engulfing Harry in a hug. “How was the morning with the Malfoys?”

        “Good. I think it went really well, actually,” Harry replied in the same cheerful tone.

        “Excellent. Now when Hagrid gets here, he’s probably going to be on about Madame Maxime again. I think she’s a lovely woman, but the house just isn’t big enough for the both of them. So whatever you do, don’t suggest he fetch her.” Arthur’s tone was deadly serious now.

        “Besides, these pies are too good to share like that. Try one,” Ron said, his mouth full, a half-eaten miniature pie in one hand, and an untouched one in the other hand, which he was holding out towards Harry.

        Harry took the pie and bit, a mouthful of flavor bursting onto his tongue instantly. He groaned in appreciation. “Your mum outdoes herself every time,” he confirmed.

        “Now George, don’t be greedy. You already had half a dozen,” Arthur said.

        Sure enough, George had a pie in each hand, each with a bite taken out.

        “Have to eat double for Fred,” George explained through a mouthful of pie.

        “Me too,” Ron agreed, palming another pie.

        “Come to think of it, they are rather tasty. Molly has once again outdone herself. I think I’ll have another myself,” Arthur said, grabbing one.

        The four men were still in the kitchen finishing up their pies when there was a booming knock on the front door and a call of, “Arthur, Molly, are ye here?” It was Hagrid’s booming voice.

        “Coming,” Arthur called as they all ran towards the door.

        Harry was fastest, so he was first out and flinging himself into Hagrid’s arms. Even after all these years, he still only came up to somewhere between Hagrid’s shoulder and elbow and looked up to the half-giant like an uncle. “Hagrid!” he cried in excitement.

        “Harry! Good ter see yeh. Is that fella of yeh’s ‘round with that ador’ble little miss?” Hagrid asked.

        “Eiona’s here, but Draco’s not. She’s taking a nap,” Harry explained.

        “Not still fightin’, are yeh Harry?”

        “Not so much, no. We’ve been getting on much better lately. He’s still tired though and we haven’t sorted everything out.”

        “Next Christmas, then?”

        “Definitely,” Harry confirmed.

        “Alright, move out of the way. The rest of us want to greet him too and we can’t really do that with your poncy self in the way, you know?” George asked good naturedly.

        Harry got out of the way and watched as the three Weasley men greeted Hagrid with warm words of welcome and handshakes. He didn’t have a problem with his sexuality when it came to hugging Hagrid; Hagrid was the first wizard he met when he was eleven; Hagrid was the one who carried his body out of the Forbidden Forest; Hagrid would die for him; Hagrid had always been there for him. The same could be said for Hermione and half the Weasleys, but he’d known Hagrid just a few weeks longer. So he didn’t mind that he was the only wizard who hugged Hagrid.

        “I see you’ve got the old motorbike flying again Hagrid. How’d you manage it?” Arthur asked, keenly interested in the converted muggle vehicle and its turbulent history. The thing broke down as fast as they could fix it and last he’d heard, the thing couldn’t clear a hedge, much less fly from Hogwarts.

        Hagrid, Arthur, and George were soon tinkering with the motorbike, while Harry and Ron went back inside. It was truly a happy Christmas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next will be Eiona’s birthday. There is a fuzzy period in my timeline after that before Lucius comes home. They should probably start doing something to prepare for the arrival of the new baby. What would you like to see? 
> 
> I would like to that diddleymaz for reviewing the last chapter. Your feedback is very much appreciated! Please Review!
> 
> One of my other stories has ended, which means it’s time for me to start a new one. I call it Pulled in Two: Ginny versus Draco and Leo. It’s a story about Draco and Ginny fighting over Harry. Ginny is his girlfriend, while Draco is the father of his son. He starts off wanting Ginny, but then he only wants to want her and doesn’t want to want Draco the way he does.


	21. Chapter21

            Harry and Draco continued to have couples therapy once a week. In addition, Draco continued to have weekly individual sessions. The sessions were going well and Harry found it much easier to work through their problems with Madam Harris there to moderate. She was able to take Harry’s jumbled words and figure out what it was he meant and wanted to say, when he didn’t know the words to say. She also understood Draco in a way Harry didn’t and was helping Harry to understand him too.

            So when Eiona’s birthday came around, things were looking up for their marriage. They were getting along and there was a sense of starting over and hope for their future together. Harry was getting up the courage to ask Draco to spend more time together. He wanted to go on another date, but he also wanted more time like this, where they spent the day together doing normal couple stuff.

            With Draco seven months pregnant, Harry thought of a number of things he could suggest. He’d already insisted on being allowed along for Draco’s healer appointments, as part of his taking an interest in Draco’s health initiative. That had been rather dull, with little chance to get more than handholding and a kiss on the cheek out of it, but he had hope still. He’d already gotten himself invited to the baby shower in a few weeks and he thought that they could arrange a few shopping trips to get everything else their son would need.

            “Draco, perhaps we can go shopping next weekend. You know, start preparing for the baby,” Harry suggested as they sat in their theater seats with Eiona in between them, waiting for the puppet show to start.

            “But the baby shower isn’t until the weekend after next. I won’t know what we need until then,” Draco replied, handing Eiona back an ant head that she’d accidentally flung in his direction. Harry’s ants had indeed been her favorite Christmas present and she insisted on taking them with her everywhere.

            “Well we can still look and pick up a few things, like clothes and nappies. It never hurts to have extra undershirts, receiving blankets, and nappies,” Harry reasoned and Draco agreed.

            Harry was about to continue on with the arrangements for next weekend’s trip, but was soon hushed by the raising of the black curtains that covered the stage from view. Red curtains were then revealed, which draped across the lower half of the stage to cover the puppeteers. A pair of puppets emerged and began a very annoying children’s show complete with overly cheerful signing.

            Instead of paying attention to the show, Harry thought about what was left to do in Eiona’s two rooms. The elves had already switched the Malfoy nursery set out for the Malfoy toddler set in her room in Malfoy Manor; during the early days of the divorce, they had switched out the Malfoy nursery set at Grimmauld Place for a standard store bought set, so that Draco could have the Malfoy set back at Malfoy Manor. Eiona’s room at Grimmauld Place, however, was still set up for a baby, because Harry hadn’t had time to work on it. The crib would be moved to the nursery for their son, which meant that the new toddler bed would have to be assembled soon. Maybe Hissy would be able to do it for him; Kreacher was certainly far too old.

            Harry was startled from his musing as he finally processed the content of the singing, “Nobody likes me, everybody hates me, I think I’ll go and eat worms.” Draco and Eiona were merrily singing along to the puppets, both worm and wizard, on stage.

            “Draco, this doesn’t sound particularly like a good children’s song. And the wizard eats the worm?” Harry asked, leaning over towards Draco so that Draco would hear in the den.

            “Relax; just watch the show. It’s fine,” Draco reassured.

            And so Harry sat back to watch the show. The wizard never did eat the worm, his friends coming over and making up from the earlier fight. It was all rather childish and annoying, but Eiona seemed to enjoy it. He was only too happy when it ended and they went to the park.

            The children’s park they went to wasn’t just a park. It had rides and carts with treats to buy that were there year round, like a permanent fair. It also had a large stretch of open grass and a playground, which were free, but the rides and treats cost. Harry purchased a bundle of tickets and led his family over to the carousel.

            Eiona, like most toddlers, enjoyed the roundabout, wanting to ride her unicorn multiple times. She was less fond of the Ferris wheel, which was rather slow, but loved the swings. Harry bought them candyfloss and a few pasties, which she loved. She had a blast, running circles around them, hopped up on sugar, as they walked throughout the park.

            They didn’t stay all day and went home after a few hours, because Draco still tired easily in his state.

            The small tea was the next day and Harry was bound and determined to be the ideal host, even to Draco’s friends and family. Mostly they were only inviting those with young children Eiona’s age, which included Dromeda and Teddy, as well as two of Draco’s relatives, and one of Harry’s friends from work. But Harry had also wanted Hermione and Ron to come, which meant Draco had invited Pansy and Blaise, to keep it even. Cissy had to be there, because she was Draco’s mother, so Harry invited Molly as his mother figure. He wanted Arthur as well, but since Lucius couldn’t come and the house was already getting crowded, Arthur had agreed to stay home.

            Hissy, Kreacher, and Dobby were in charge of decorations and did a bang-up job with streamers and balloons. The elves gutted the drawing room, pushing all of the chairs and sofas to the sides and moving coffee and end tables out of the room, to make more room for the party games. There weren’t enough seats for the adults, so an extra sofa had been transfigured for the day. And essential for the games, was a small wizard wireless in the room.

            They had six young children in total for the party. Eiona and Teddy of course, but their usual third, Victoire, was not invited. The other children included two of Draco’s relatives and two children whose father, Auror Franklin Jones, joined the Aurors the same time as Harry and Ron. Jones brought his wife, so there were two children and two adults from Draco’s side and an equal number from Harry’s side, keeping everything fair and even.

            Frankie, as the boys called him, and his wife Blythe had an eighteen month old son named Dace and a daughter named Daisy, who was almost three. With two young children instead of one, he was promoted over his fellow Aurors on Harry’s list. Plus he got on well with Harry and Ron at work and they had occasionally worked together. He was a cheerful bloke who wasn’t a bad mate to have to hang around the water cooler with, which was the other half of why Harry picked him and his family to invite.

            Harry had met Fonda and her three-year-old son Edsel at the Malfoy family dinner a few months ago. She was a Rosier by birth and related on Draco’s mother’s side. He’d found that despite the fact that she had married a Death Eater and was now widowed by said Death Eater, she was actually pleasant and seemed decent. More importantly, she was committed to teaching her son Edsel a more pro-muggleborn version of pureblood beliefs.

            Harry had seen Draco’s other second cousin with a young child, Heather, at that family dinner as well, but he’d known only that she was of Smith stalk and was the first cousin of Zacharias Smith. Out of all of the women with young children, she’d been sat furthest away, so he hadn’t had a chance to find out that her married last name was Macmillan or that she was the widow of Edgar Macmillan, Ernie’s brother. Edgar had died fighting alongside the Order of the Phoenix, on Harry’s side of the war. Thus not all of Draco’s relatives supported the Death Eaters and Heather Macmillan had a two year old daughter, Sybil, who was almost the same age as Eiona.

            The six children age three and under gathered in the drawing room with the twelve adults. Draco and Pansy, each being heavily pregnant, sat on the side and watched while the other adults helped the children play the games correctly. With such young children, they were always breaking away from the games and being easily distracted by the balloons and streamers.

            They played pass the parcel, in which Molly and Hermione were in charge of the music and made sure each child had at least one chance to unwrap a layer of the parcel and win a small trinket. Then they played musical chairs, which Harry was in charge of, having picked the easiest of the games to supervise himself; he settled disputes on who got to the chair first and handed out a small stuffed bear to the winner.

            Then they played musical bumps, led by Cissy, Heather, and Fonda. They got the children dancing and when the music stopped, they had to rush to be the first to sit down on the floor. The adults joined in on that last game, all except Draco and Pansy, who were laughing quite hard at the other adults by the end of it.

            After the games, they took the children down to the kitchen. There they sang happy birthday and had cake, made by Molly, and elf-made ice cream. The children got filthy with melted ice cream and icing and went from rowdy to hyper-active with the sugar, but they had fun. Even Harry was exhausted running around after the little ones by the end and happy to see the guests out the floo.

            After the dinner, Harry escorted Draco, Eiona, and Cissy back to Malfoy Manor. He could’ve kept Eiona there at Grimmauld with him for a few more hours, but he wanted to see Draco home and spend a few minutes more together.

            “Mother, would you mind giving Eiona a bath?” Draco asked as soon as she stepped out of the floo, the last to arrive. Eiona was clean now, after a cleaning spell, but she still needed the real thing.

            Cissy complied and took her granddaughter off to bathe. Harry was then free to follow Draco to Draco’s sitting room, hoping for a goodnight kiss, since he knew Draco was tired. He was stopped at the door to Draco’s room.

            “Today was nice Harry. Thank you for making Eiona’s birthday special. You know, for arranging all of that,” Draco said.

            “You’re very welcome. I just can’t believe you were hiding such a pro-muggle relative.”

            “Every family has their black sheep. We have Aunt Dromeda too,” Draco said playfully.

            “Well I’m glad we got to know her and her daughter. Fonda is nice too; we should do more things with them. You know, arrange playdates and such.”

            “Fonda was suggesting we take them to a children’s museum, but I’m too pregnant for all of that walking. Maybe after this baby is born.”

            “Maybe. That would be nice.” Harry thought for a moment that he could potentially take Eiona without Draco, but then thought better of it, because Draco might feel left out if he did. Heather and Fonda were after all Draco’s second cousins, not his and the idea of going without Draco was just weird.

            Then Draco leaned in and gave Harry a soft kiss on the cheek. He pulled back and said, “Shopping next weekend then.”

            “Yes, next weekend,” Harry confirmed.

            Draco turned and went to bed, while Harry went off in the other direction to find their daughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that Eiona’s special day is over, it’s time for Harry and Draco to start concentrating on the new arrival. It’s going to be a boy, but what should he be named? The last name will be Malfoy, since Eiona was a Potter. And I’m thinking Orion as a first name, because it’s Sirius’ father’s name and if his mother followed the tradition of giving the first born son the father’s middle name, then it would be Sirius’ middle name too. And Orion satisfies the Black family tradition of using astrological names. What do you think? And which middle name would you put with it? There are so many choices…


	22. Chapter22

            It had been just another Wednesday evening at first. Harry stayed at Malfoy Manor so that he and Eiona could share dinner with Draco. It went well, but then Draco asked Harry to come back to his rooms to talk, and Cissy offered to watch their daughter, as if this was something she’d already arranged to do with Draco. Harry was pleasantly surprised when Draco went all the way into the bedroom and sat on the bed, without stopping Harry from following. Normally they spoke in Draco’s sitting room, not his bedroom.

            Harry approached the bed cautiously, not knowing whether he was allowed in this far, and stopped in front of Draco. Draco patted the bed next to him, indicating a desire to have Harry sit.

            Harry sat and asked, “Draco, what is this?”

            “We’ve been doing well in therapy and getting along well outside it. I thought it was time to move to the next level.”

            “And that would be?”

            “I’m horny.”

            Harry let out a gasp of breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. With those two words, Draco implied so much and all of it good. Harry leaned in, closing the distance between their lips and initiating a passionate snogging session. Suddenly they were back before all of their problems began, back when their relationship was hot and easy.

            They continued to kiss, breaking apart only to pull off robes and garments of clothing. As soon as they were naked, Draco spread his legs and wrapped them behind Harry’s back, pulling Harry closer and smashing Harry’s body into Draco’s enlarged belly. Their groins touched and a jolt of pleasure shot through their bodies at the contact, Draco arching up to increase the delicious friction. Harry would’ve been happy to continue frotting against his husband, but then Draco took hold of his hand and led it to Draco’s hole, furthering his implications.

            Harry was happy to summon some lube and finger Draco’s arse, but it occurred to him then that Draco might be wanting to go all the way to full blown sex that night. Ordinarily, he was up for sex any time, almost any place, but right now he couldn’t get certain accusations out of his head. Draco and Cissy had accused him on more than one occasion of being a sex fiend and of wanting Draco only for the sex. He didn’t want to give them any reason to think that sex was the driving force behind their reconciliation.

            “Draco?” Harry gasped out, the sound muffled by the fact that his lips were still pressed against Draco’s.

            “Hmm?” Draco asked, arching up into Harry’s groin, giant belly sliding across Harry’s flat chest.

            “I don’t want to have sex with you tonight.”

            That statement was like throwing cold water on their heated bodies. Draco pulled back, turning his face away from Harry’s and breaking both the contact between their groins and their mouths. Harry’s fingers in Draco’s arse was the only contact between them that remained.

            “What?” Draco’s voice sounded hurt and surprised, betrayed even.

            “Not tonight. I’ll do other things, but not sex tonight. I don’t want this reconciliation to be about sex. I want it to be about us. I don’t want sex getting in the way.”

            “You, Harry James Potter, don’t want to have sex? For noble reasons?” Draco asked incredulously.

            “Er, yes.”

            “Are you turning straight on me?”

            “Merlin, no!” Harry shuddered with the thought. “I still want you. I want you more than anyone else in the world. You’ve ruined me for anyone else, because now that I’ve had you, they could never compare.”

            “Good answer.”

            “So no sex, but anything else you want, just name it.”

            “What we were doing, but with fingering.”

            “You can’t cum without anal stimulation, I know. I’ll make it good for you without my cock,” Harry said, remembering all of those times they’d fucked. On multiple occasions Draco had cum without his cock being touched, but not once had he cum without something in his arse massaging his prostate.

            Draco nodded and pushed his body back towards Harry’s, recapturing Harry’s lips with his own. And then their heated skin was once more joined, Draco’s belly rubbing back and forth across Harry’s chest, Draco’s legs wrapped around Harry’s back, and their hard cocks pressed tightly against each other. Harry added a second finger into Draco’s arse, closely followed by a third, pumping in and out and curling into Draco’s sensitive area.

            “More,” Draco requested, alternating between pushing down on Harry’s fingers and thrusting his cock up into Harry’s giant member.

            Harry complied and added a forth finger, knowing his husband liked to feel stretched.

            “Mmmm, so full. Missed being full. Can’t ever get full without you. Can’t even reach without you,” Draco muttered, tossing his head back with pleasure.

            “I know. Soon you’ll be riding my cock again. Would you like that? Hmm Draco?”  
            “Yes! Salazar, I want your cock so bad. I want to be full of you again. I want you in me.”

            “I’ve missed being in you so bad. You’re always so tight and perfect. I’m going to fill you and make you cum on my cock.”

            “Yes please.”

            And all the while they talked, they rutted against one another, sliding engorged slickened cocks against one another and Harry’s fingers thrusting in and out of Draco’s sensitive canal.

            Harry came first, leaving his cum all over Draco’s cock. When he recovered, he realized that Draco was still hard and rutting against him, trying to achieve a bit more friction. As soon as he was able, he lowered himself to Draco’s groin and took Draco’s cock into his mouth, his four fingers still up Draco’s arse. He sucked and fingered Draco until Draco came, painting the pregnancy belly with stripes of cum. Harry kept sucking and fingering Draco through the orgasm, until Draco was so hyper-sensitive as to push him away. Then he crawled back up into Draco’s arms.

            “Draco?” Harry asked.

            “Hmm?” Draco replied.

            “Do you want to talk about that?”

            “No. What’s there to talk about?” Draco’s tone was relaxed and sleepy.

            “You know, how we _feel_ about what we just did? Madam Harris is always saying we need to talk about our _feelings_ , isn’t she? She said that was one of the major things we were doing wrong in our marriage.” Harry’s tone was serious and much more alert than his counterpart.

            “I feel good. How do you feel?”

            “Good.”

            “Then we’re good.” Draco lay his head back, his eyes closed, and began to drift off to sleep.

            “Are you _sure_ we’ve talked about it enough?” Harry was still wide awake and growing increasingly apprehensive about the sexual activities they’d just engaged in.

            Draco opened his eyes and forced himself to become more awake. “I’m sure. Look Harry, you’re a wizard, I’m a wizard; we’re both wizards. Neither of us is some touchy feely witch who needs to psychoanalyze every little moment. If we’re both good, then we’re good, and that’s it.”

            “But Madam Harris said-,” Harry started, but Draco cut him off.

            “Madam Harris isn’t in this marriage with us.”

            “But how do we know when we’re not good, if we don’t talk about it?”

            “If either of us do _not_ agree we’re good, _then_ we can talk about it, Harry. We can do all that feely stuff then. We just need to tell each other and be honest about when we’re not good.”

            “But what if I don’t want to talk about something right then and you think I’m good, when I’m not?”

            “Then don’t tell me you’re good. Tell me you need time to think. I’m telling you I need time to sleep. If you’re still being a sap in the morning, we can talk more about your feelings then.”

            “No, no, I’m good. I like this system. If we’re good, we’re good, right? We just have to be firm with Madam Harris and tell her that we talked about this and we’re good.” Harry was telling himself more than he was telling Draco.

            “Good. Now shut up and go to sleep,” Draco said.

            Harry did shut up then and concentrated on holding Draco. Draco was soon asleep, but it was still early enough that Harry really should get up and spend some time with Eiona. He didn’t want to at first, because he didn’t want to leave Draco. But after a while when Draco was still asleep and he wasn’t tired, he did get up and go.

            Cissy was giving Eiona a bath, but allowed Harry to take over. It was already close enough to the toddler’s bedtime that it wasn’t worth uprooting her to take her to Grimmauld Place, so he stayed. They played for a while there and got her ready for bed, before he read her a bedtime story. They went through their usual routine, except they did it in the room she was actually going to sleep in, instead of her old room at Grimmauld Place. The difference seemed to make everything go more smoothly but once Eiona was asleep, he did return to his own home for the night, since he didn’t know whether Draco wanted him to stay or not. He thought about crawling back into Draco’s bed, but felt like a creep just thinking about it, so he didn’t.

 

* * *

 

 

            Their next therapy session with Madam Harris wasn’t until Saturday morning. She started it off rather bluntly. “Draco tells me that the two of you resumed marital relations, Harry. How do you feel about that?”

            Draco was still seeing Madam Harris once a week for individual session. Apparently one such session had occurred sometime between Wednesday night and Saturday morning.

            _Ah ha! I was right! That’s the first thing she jumped to_ , Harry thought, feeling vindicated. But he also remembered the discussion he’d had with Draco. Out loud he said, “We’re good. We talked about our feelings and came to an understanding.” The understanding was that they wouldn’t psychoanalyze everything to death when they were fine.

            “Care to share a few more details?”

            “Um, no, that’s it. We’re good,” Harry answered.

            “This is rather odd; Draco was also rather vague on the details and used very similar wording,” Madam Harris said.

            “We’re fine. I said we talked and we talked. We just don’t want to divulge every private detail. It was a good talk,” Draco interjected.

            “Harry, do you agree?” Madam Harris asked.

            “Oh yeah, definitely. It was a short talk, but we came to an understanding that I think we’re both comfortable with,” Harry answered.

            “We did do that, didn’t we Harry? We sound like a proper adult couple,” Draco said with a smirk.

            “Yeah, we did. I feel like we are more solid than we’ve been in ages. And I’m glad I didn’t cave to your pressuring me into sex. I’m comfortable with going slower this time,” Harry replied.

            “Me too. It was rather perfect the way it was, I feel,” Draco concluded.

            “Well gentlemen, it sounds like the two of you have made real progress. I was honestly a bit skeptical when Draco told me, but he has proved me wrong. I’m really proud of the way the two of you managed to communicate in this matter,” Madam Harris said.

            Despite the praise, the next fifteen minutes were filled with a lecture by the therapist about maintaining a healthy sexual relationship. The important part was meeting each other’s mutual needs and finding a healthy balance. Initiating sex when one partner was asleep or otherwise out of it was not okay. Madam Harris made Harry promise to verify that Draco was coherent at the start of each sexual encounter, to ensure that type of thing didn’t happen again. Finally they moved on to discussing using babysitters for prearranged date nights, so that their sex lives wouldn’t suffer so much in the future, despite the addition of a second child.

            After the sex lecture, Harry felt like he was put in the hot seat and there was a blush evident on his cheeks. He was glad when the topic finally changed gears to what they had planned on discussing this week, even if that too was a topic he’d rather avoid.

            “In order to move forward, I feel that the two of you must examine your pasts. You come from two very different worlds and while you have discussed how Harry didn’t understand your world, Draco, you haven’t discussed how you do not understand his. Harry, we touched on this during your very first session, but it is clear to me that Draco has no idea what your childhood with the Dursleys was like. In his childhood, he never experienced abuse or mistreatment, so it is hard for him to fathom. Would you care to tell him about it now?” Madam Harris asked.

            Knowing that refusing would just make this a bigger deal than it was, Harry sighed. He’d previously given Draco about two sentences of explanation as to why he wasn’t close with his relatives; why he never went to visit and never invited the Dursleys over. That amounted to something like, “The Dursleys didn’t like me very much,” and, “When I was little the Dursleys kept me in a cupboard under the stairs.” Draco’s reaction to the first tidbit of information was disbelief and he literally believed Harry was joking about the second. Now Draco would learn the truth and Harry was embarrassed imagining what Draco, the spoiled little rich boy who had never known suffering, might think. Plus he was still embarrassed by their first topic of discussion.

            Harry started retelling the events of his childhood in the briefest of ways. His relatives didn’t like magic or him specifically. They only took him in because they had to. They only gave him his Cousin Dudley’s old hand-me-downs and old toys, never buying him anything new of his own. They made him sleep on a travel cot in the cupboard, while his cousin had a second bedroom to hold overflow of toys. They treated him like a servant and punished him frequently, either by withholding food or locking him in the cupboard or bedroom.

            Harry hoped that this would be enough for Madam Harris, but of course it wasn’t. They didn’t even get to how they felt about it that session, because Draco had trouble understanding and believing it.

            Draco’s first reaction was that Harry was having him on, but that hypothesis was negated by the presence of a very serious Madam Harris, who wouldn’t allow Harry to joke about something like this. Then there were detail oriented questions by Draco designed to show that things really weren’t as bad as Harry let on, which turned out to reveal that things were much worse than Draco could’ve imagined. That was followed by half an hour or more of Draco asking why one person or another didn’t do something about one thing or another. Then the time was up and the session was over.

            “Harry, I think it is time you and I had another private session with just the two of us. I would like to discuss your upbringing and how it has affected you in greater detail,” Madam Harris said, wrapping up the session.

            “Do we have to?” Harry asked, not wanting to discuss the matter anymore than strictly necessary. He needed help with his marriage, not his childhood.

            “I think it would be beneficial, yes,” Madam Harris answered.

            Harry looked at Draco, who was looking at Harry expectantly, his eyes still wide from the earlier shattering of his disbelief. “Okay, fine,” Harry answered. Before leaving, he made an appointment to meet with the therapist alone after work one day during the week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The middle name suggestions I received were as follows: Severus, James, and Harry. Which do you prefer after Orion? I think they will talk about names next chapter, so this is your last chance to offer a suggestion!  
> Please Review!


	23. Chapter23

            That week Harry gave up two of his nights with his daughter. One was spent with a reporter giving that interview for Lucius, since Lucius’ attorney finally said it was time to act. The other was wasted reliving his life with the Dursleys and how they made him feel with Madam Harris. That set the stage for their Saturday appointment with Draco in which they discussed how Harry’s past affected their marriage.

            First of all, people tend to emulate the relationship of their parents in their marriage and since Harry’s parents died before he could remember, that meant his aunt and uncle were his marriage role models. Aunt Petunia had always been subservient to Uncle Vernon, doing whatever her husband said and taking Vernon’s side, no matter how wrong the man was. In his marriage to Draco, Harry had unwittingly become Vernon and let Draco fall into the role of Petunia. And since his aunt and uncle had such an unhealthy marriage, he hadn’t noticed when his marriage became unhealthy too.

            Secondly, Harry’s past affected him in other ways. He was used to suffering alone and viewed it as normal and something to brush off. So when Draco suffered, he didn’t think twice about it and assumed Draco would brush it off too. Because he wasn’t used to talking about what was wrong, he never said anything about what bothered him or tried to get Draco to talk about things that bothered Draco. He was used to bearing a much greater burden that Draco and expected Draco to be able to bear the same. He allowed their problems to be swept under the rug and build into an insurmountable mountain, instead of dealing with them as they came.

            But despite all of Harry’s problems, Madam Harris was confident that knowing about the issues would help the couple build a stronger marriage. Now that they both knew what to watch for, they would be less likely to let their problems slip through the cracks. If Harry worked on being less independent and depending on his husband and Draco worked on the opposite, they could meet in the middle and find a happy middle ground. They’d had different life styles and upbringings, but if they discussed their expectations, they could find compromises that would make them both happy. That was what they would be discussing in upcoming sessions, so both wizards were determined to look for and work on these issues when they came up in their lives.

 

* * *

 

            They went on a shopping trip together that next Sunday. They picked up some new things for Draco, since his paternity clothes were getting tight, and for Eiona, since she was growing into the next size, but mostly they bought for the new baby. They picked up a few outfits that were so adorable they couldn’t resist, but mainly stuck to getting the type of essentials they wouldn’t be getting enough of at the baby shower, like toiletries, nappies, wipes, undershirts, and baby potions.

            “If we don’t get a swing at the baby shower, let’s come back and get that one,” Harry said, pulling Draco close to him as they passed by the aisle with larger baby items.

            “We still have Eiona’s. You don’t want to reuse it?” Draco asked.

            “It’s covered in flowers.”

            “We could change the fabric.”

            “Yes, but I know something that you’re overlooking,” Harry said, leaning in to whisper the next part into Draco’s ear. “Malfoys don’t do hand-me-downs.”

            Draco gasped in surprise and a smile twitched at the corner of his lips. “I’ll have you know that we had some used things for Eiona.”

            “Not many.”

            “I thought you’d be all into doing the Weasley thing.”

            “But that swing is just so perfect for our little boy. Look, there are dinosaurs with wizard hats and wands _inside_ the flying saucers. That’s like every little boy theme wrapped into one.”

            “You know that swing is the exact same model as Eiona’s. We can just order the seat pad and the mobile and switch them out.”  
            “Alright, but you know that money is no question when it comes to our children. If you want him to have something new, then it doesn’t matter if Eiona’s old one is perfectly fine; our son should have the best. Malfoys deserve the best of everything.”

            “I already do have the best of everything,” Draco replied, pressing a soft kiss to Harry’s lips.

            The snogging session was cut short by the fact that they were out in public and someone was already reaching for a camera to take their picture. Harry cleared his throat and said, “Um, maybe we should stick to holding hands until we get home.”

            Draco complied. They finished their shopping and then apparated back to the Manor. Eiona was still down for her nap and Draco figured they just might have fifteen minutes left of grownup time left to talk. He led Harry into his sitting room and pulled Harry down onto the sofa with him.

            “Harry, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about,” Draco said.

            “Yes? What is it?” Harry asked, wondering if he was in trouble and what it was that he might’ve done wrong.

            “We’ve been getting along lately and therapy has been going well.”

            “Yes, and I gave that interview for your father this week, like I promised,” Harry said, trying to remind Draco of why his husband should not be mad at him.

            “Yes, you did and I’m very grateful to you for doing so. You kept your promise and now it’s time for me to keep mine.”

            “Yours?”

            “Yes, I promised to give you another chance and I mean to.”

            “And you have. These dates and even therapy are the highlight of my days.” Not the solo therapy without Draco or the feelings part, but the rest of it was wonderful, just because Draco was there.

            “I think it’s time we upped the ante a little bit. Maybe we could live together again and see how it goes.”

            Harry immediately flung his arms around Draco, pulling Draco in for a hug. “Thank you so much for this Draco, I promise you won’t regret it,” he said, before initiating a kiss.

            Draco kissed back and it turned into a bit of a snog.

            When they broke apart, Draco said, “Harry, I know you’ve been trying to understand me and my culture and more importantly, you gave that wonderful interview about my father. You have certainly showed that you are willing to put forth the effort needed to repair this marriage. And now I know why you shut me out and did a lot of the things you did. I don’t think everything is fixed, but it’s a start; a good one at that.”

            “Draco, I’m trying my best, but I may need some help from you. If you could just tell me when I’m sticking my foot up my arse, I’d very much appreciate it.”

            “I’ll try.”

            “Now when are you moving home?” Harry asked with a giant smile on his face.

            “I’m not so sure I want to move back.”

            The smile fell from Harry’s face. “What? Why? I thought you wanted to live together again?”

            “I do, but I didn’t agree to move back into Grimmauld Place.”

            “But I bought Hissy, the elf you wanted.”

            “Yes and that’s a start, but it’s too small. There’s room for you and Eiona, but not me and the new baby.”

            “I’ll make the spare bedroom into a nursery. I’ve already been working on it.”

            “But what about me? Where’s my space?”

            “In my room, in my bed.”

            “But I felt so cramped living like that. Harry, look around you. Do you see how much space I have here? I have an entire large bedroom, loo, _and_ a sitting room to myself. This is the amount of space I’m used to.”

            “What if I make space in Grimmauld Place?”

            “Where?”

            “The third floor. I’ll gut Regulus’ old room and turn it into your own sitting room or second bedroom or whatever you want.”

            “Do you know what I really want?” Draco asked, looking at Harry with wide eyes.

            “What? Tell me, I’ll do anything.”

            “Anything?”

            “Yes, to get you and my family back, yes, anything.”

            “Move in with me.”

            “Huh?”

            “I tried living with you, now you try living with me. You’ve seen that my friends and family aren’t all bad; it’s time you see that my house isn’t that bad either.”

            “But Voldemort-” Harry started to say, but Draco cut him off.

            “Is dead. Why are you still letting him rule our lives?”

            “Ergh, Draco! I have bad memories of this house from the war. Don’t you understand?”

            “I do, which is why mother and I don’t use that drawing room anymore. We’ve closed off that wing of the house, if you haven’t noticed. What’s wrong with this wing? I can assure you the Dark Lord never entered it.”

            “I can’t believe your house is big enough to shut down an entire _wing_ , just because that was where Voldemort stayed.”

            “Well it is. The only thing on that side of the house we’ve used since the war is the formal sitting room and dining room and neither of those were where you were taken. You were only ever in the first drawing room; the one right off of the foyer. We closed that one down and don’t even let the elves in there to clean. So what is the problem?”

            “Fine, I’ll give it a try. When should I bring my stuff over?”

            “Give the elves a day to prepare your room.”

            “My own room? I thought you were going to let me sleep with you…”

            “Maybe, but even if you share my bed, you still need your own space if you are living here. Let me show you how we live. Madam Harris said that I need to be more assertive when it comes to being with you and show you how to do things my way. I want you to at least try it.”

            “Alright, I’ll give it a try,” Harry agreed, nipping Draco’s bottom lip, just so happy to be back together with his husband that he’d agree to practically anything.

            “Good, but there’s something else we need to discuss if we are back together.”

            “What’s that Draco?”

            “I don’t want to be a Potter anymore.”

            “But I thought you said-” Harry started, but Draco cut him off.

            “I’ll take you back, but not your name. I like being a Malfoy again; it fits me better. I want to continue being a Malfoy.”

            “Alright, if that’s what you want.”

            “It is and I want this baby to be a Malfoy too.”

            “But I thought you wanted the children to have my name?”

            “I wanted Eiona to have your name. I want little Lucius to have my name. Eiona can be your heir and Lucius will be mine.”

            “Draco, you _cannot_ name our child after your father.”

            “Why not?”

            “Because!”

            “Because why? This is you sticking your foot in your arse again Harry, just so you know.”

            “Urgh! Fine, I take that back. You _could_ name our child after your father, but I’d rather our child be named almost anything else.”

            “Harry.”

            “Yes Draco?”  
            “I was testing you. I don’t want to name our son Lucius, but if I did, I would expect you to _consider_ it before outright rejecting it. See, this is what I’m talking about with you being more accepting of my feelings,” Draco drawled.

            “Er, sorry. I’m still working on it. What did you _really_ want to name our son?”

            “Orion James Malfoy.”

            Orion was both Sirius’ middle name and his father’s name. He hadn’t often in his life let that fact be known, because it made his initials SOB, but his parents hadn’t thought twice about his initials when naming him. As such there were only a few people left alive who knew.

            “After Sirius and my father?” Harry asked, his heart swelling with pride. Maybe if he’d known Draco was going to name their son after his father he would’ve been more open to Draco’s cause of bringing his father home. It definitely made him fonder of the idea now that he knew and also completely glossed over the last name in his mind. If Draco was giving him the first and middle names, then he could give Draco the last name.

            “And a great many other Orions in the Black family, but yes, I wanted something you would approve of.”

            “Thank you so much. Orion James Malfoy is a perfect. Only…” Harry paused, looking at his hands.

            “Yes? Is there some problem with that name?”

            “Well, it’s just I sort of have a list of names I wanted to use. You know, for all of the wizards who died for me. You just used up two of them, which is great; I didn’t think you’d ever agree to either. But, there is someone else who gave his life for me; someone who is always overlooked.”

            “Who?”

            “Honestly I thought you would’ve thought of this. He’s the one person who was important to both of us.”

            “You’re keeping me in suspense here Harry. Just tell me already.”

            “Severus. I figured you would pick the first name, but that we could use Severus as a middle name.”

            “In place of James?”

            “Or in addition to. Orion Severus James Malfoy. That way we get most of my mentors in one go.”

            “Alright.” Draco gave a curt nod, before looking down at his belly, his hands on either side. “Did you hear that Orion? Do you like that name?” he asked his stomach.

            “But if we use all three of those names, then I’ll insist on Albus or Alastor for our next son.”

            Draco looked up at Harry and said, “Harry, we are _not_ having another one. This is it.” His tone brokered no argument.

            “Alright.”

            “You’re okay with the last name then?”

            “Definitely.”

            “Then it’s settled. Did you hear that in there little man; you are a Malfoy,” Draco told his stomach.

            Harry bent down on his knees to talk to Draco’s stomach, caressing his unborn son in the process. “Orion, your father and I love you very much. We can’t wait until you come out and join us.”

            Vile Thing appeared then, to inform them that Eiona was up and on her way out of the nursery with Dotty.

            Eiona soon joined them and they spent five minutes playing with her, before getting lost in each other once again. It was like new love all over again and they couldn’t take their eyes, or their hands for that matter, off of each other. She was fine playing with her new toys she had gotten for her birthday, which happened to be a family set of pop together beetles, like her set of beloved ants. The beetles and ant parts could be joined together to make silly hybrid creatures and the child loved them so much that Draco feared he had a future Hagrid on his hands.

            There was suddenly a creaking sound and then an end table went toppling over, along with Eiona and the candy dish upon it. She started screaming and Harry and Draco broke apart from their snogging session to rush over. Harry righted the table and tried to restore the candy dish to its original state, but the candies had scattered about the room, so he had to scramble to get them all. Meanwhile Draco picked up their daughter and comforted her, but it was unnecessary, because she was happy the moment she popped a candy in her mouth.

            “Harry?” Draco called, looking down at his husband, still scrambling after candies.

            “Yes?” Harry asked, looking up.

            “We have elves for that. Dobson!” Draco called and the elf appeared instantly. “See to the candy dish Dobson.”

            The elf nodded and vanished the dish and spilled candies instantly. Then a fresh dish appeared on the end table, restoring the room to its original state.

            Harry got up off of the floor and asked, “I suppose I need to get used to using elves the way you do?” He had Hissy now, but he rarely called her to clean up spills, used to doing some chores himself.

            “Yes, you do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The youngest Gorgons suggested the winning name. It sounded brilliant, so I went with it. Besides, I realized that the initials of Orion James are O. J., which is infamous in the US.   
> Up next will be the baby shower, Harry moving into Malfoy Manor, and there will be news on Lucius’ parole…  
> Please Review!


	24. Chapter24

            In the days that followed, Harry moved into Malfoy Manor. Draco provided him with a large suite of rooms, on the other side of Draco’s suite from the nursery suite. The nursery suite was composed of a second nursery they were setting up in the room next to Eiona’s, along with a playroom. All of their rooms combined took up the entire floor of the lived in wing. Harry had to admit that their portion of Malfoy Manor was about equal in size to Grimmauld Place, but more convenient, since there weren’t stairs breaking it up.

            While they were out of Grimmauld Place, Harry took the opportunity to have it remodeled, because it had displeased Draco. He’d shrunk all of Sirius and Regulus’ old things and shoved them in the attic. He moved all of his and Eiona’s things over to the Manor, his new rooms coming in handy. And he managed to convince Draco that he was only being overzealous in order to give this living in the Manor thing a real go and put every possible effort into saving their marriage. Draco was rather pleased with him for that.

            Once Grimmauld was cleared out, a contractor was hired to come in and gut the third floor, with orders to turn it into something similar to Draco’s suite at the Manor. The plan was to have one communal bedroom, loo, and sitting room for them to share, along with a small private office for each. The second floor would then have more room for the children. Each child would get a room, there would be one shared playroom, and the drawing room would remain as it was. The first floor would be unchanged, unless the contractor could figure out how to get Madam Black’s portrait down.

            Draco didn’t know about the renovations occurring back at Grimmauld Place and Harry was hoping to surprise him with it. Maybe once it was perfectly suited to their family, Draco would want to move back in. Harry certainly hoped so, not that Malfoy Manor had been so bad. Now that he’d moved all his things into his big lonely rooms, they weren’t so big and lonely anymore. But, he still spent most of his time in Draco and Eiona’s rooms.

            The next weekend the baby shower was held at Malfoy Manor. Unlike the first baby shower where they were all stuffed into the Weasley’s living room, this baby shower was huge and took up multiple rooms. Multiple rooms that were all located in the so called Dark Wing of the Manor, because it was the wing where Voldemort and all of the other Death Eaters had stayed. The wing that was normally closed down. Harry had only been in that wing once in his life and that was during Draco’s family dinner. He’d been too busy worrying about meeting all of Draco’s relatives and making a good impression then that he hadn’t really thought about the fact that he was eating in the same formal dining room where Voldemort had taken meals.

            The baby shower wasn’t to be in the formal dining room; it was to be in the ballroom. It was the largest room in the house. They needed the space, so they had to use it, despite the fact that Voldemort had thrown parties there during the war. Harry held Eiona extra tight in his arms as he entered the cavernous room with its high ceiling.

            Cissy was in charge of the setup, having planned this monstrosity of a baby shower. The day’s events, from the house elves serving the food, to the silly games, to the gifts, were all her doing. Draco was helping from his chaise, which had been moved into the room for the day, directing house elves around. There was an elf putting up streamers, balloons, and cuties baby themed decorations. Another elf was setting out more folding chairs, arranging them into the free spaces in the room. And a final elf was organizing the game supplies.

            Freezing at the doorway, Harry’s nerves got the best of him. Not only was this Voldemort’s ballroom, but Draco’s family was coming, even the ones he didn’t like. And this was their baby shower, so it had to be perfect and he had to be there. He couldn’t just freak out and ditch; he’d promised Draco he was okay with this. Only he hadn’t realized until this moment that he wasn’t as okay with it as he wanted to be.

            Eiona squealed, “Fa--er,” and squirmed to be put down. Harry did.

            Draco looked up to see Harry frozen in the doorway and Eiona running towards him. He struggled to rise up off of his chaise, being uncomfortably pregnant. Once up, he straightened his robes over his bump, and waddled off to intercept Eiona from bothering the elf with the decorations, since she had veered away from him in favor of the balloons. He tried to pick his daughter up, but she was too big and he was too pregnant to manage on his own; he needed her handed to him these days. Then he tried bending down and taking her hand, but she was too short and he was too tall, which meant he couldn’t hold onto her hand without bending over. Walking was hard enough without bending over; he’d never make it over to Harry like that.

            “Alright, stay still Princess. Father is going to cast a levitation charm on you,” Draco warned, still holding Eiona in place with his left hand circling her wrist, his right pulling out his wand.

            “Fly, Fly, Fly!” Eiona exclaimed happily, knowing what a levitation charm meant.

            With a murmured enchantment and a swish and a flick from Draco’s wand, Eiona was floating into the air. He let go of her wrist and caught her by the ankle, before she could fly away. He’d been planning on just using the charm to get her into his arms, but she was giggling and laughing so merrily at her role as the balloon on the string, that he didn’t feel like spoiling her fun. He simply left her body floating in the air as he dragged her leg with him, waddling towards Harry in the doorway.

            “Weeeeeee. I fly, fly, fly, ‘igh,” Eiona exclaimed happily.

            When the pair finally reached him, Harry plucked his daughter out of the air and settled her on his shoulders. He made sure to keep a tight hold on both of her ankles, so that she wouldn’t fly away from him. This near the doorway, there was the possibility that she could hit her head on it. If not, the ceiling in this room was two stories high, meaning that he’d need a broom to get her down. “I see you turned our daughter into a Helium balloon,” he commented.

            Draco shrugged and said haughtily, “Needs must. I blame you for producing such short offspring. It has nothing to do with the fact that she’s only two; if it wasn’t for all that Potter in her, I’d be able to reach her hand without levitating her.”

            “Oh yeah, I’m sure,” Harry replied with a grin.

            Draco grinned back, before he remembered why he’d had to get up and retrieve their daughter in the first place. His face turned serious and he said, “Now what’s the matter? Why didn’t you come into the ballroom?”

            Harry shrugged and looked up to his daughter, still on his shoulders, so that he’d have somewhere other than at Draco to look.

            “Fly ‘igher Daddy, fly ‘igh!” Eiona exclaimed.

            “No, we aren’t flying higher today, Eiona,” Harry replied.

            “You know you already passed the big drawing room with the trapdoor to the cellar at the beginning of this hall? The one we put that big painting in front of, blocking the door, so we don’t even have to look at it?” Draco asked, guessing what the problem was.

            Harry sighed. “Yes, I know.”

            “But?”

            “But didn’t he use this room too? Didn’t he have balls and galas in this room?”

            “Two balls, one gala, but I had fifteen birthday parties in this room and sixteen Christmas galas. My parents and grandparents had their birthday and anniversary parties here too. This is even the room where Malfoy weddings are held, if the weather turns bad and they cannot have them outside in the gardens,” Draco said.

            “This room has a lot of Malfoy history in it, doesn’t it?”

            “Yes, it does. It’s a perfectly fine room, just ask Eiona.” Draco looked up at their daughter expectantly.

            On cue Eiona replied, “Er’ec’ly ‘ine room fly.”

            Mustering his Gryffindor courage, Harry took a big breath and stepped into the room properly. It was no different from being in the doorway, really. Voldemort was dead and gone and this was still Draco’s family home. He gave a weak smile, to show his husband he was alright.

            “Excellent, you can do this. Now you can sit by me the entire time if you want. My back is killing me from all this standing,” Draco said, hooking an arm through one of Harry’s, since both of Harry’s hands were still busy holding onto Eiona’s ankles. His other hand reached around and supported the curve of his aching back.

            Together they made their way over to the chaise, Eiona’s weight settling more firmly on Harry’s shoulders as the levitation charm wore off.

            Draco was still getting comfortable again on the chaise, getting the pillows behind his back just right, when Molly Weasley appeared. She was on kiddy detail today, so she kindly took Eiona from them and went to set up the nursery. Harry stayed there with Draco, helping to instruct the elves on last-minute decoration adjustments. They even stayed put once the guests started arriving, letting Cissy and the elves see to them. Then they were too busy for Harry to think about who had once inhabited this room on this side of the house.

            The husbands who came with their wives were led off to a sitting room, where they waited for the festivities to end. There they looked at manly things like Lucius’ fishing rod collection and the Malfoy family sword collection. One of the recurrent topics of conversation in that room was the article written about Harry’s support of Fawley’s criminal reform and of Lucius’ impending return. There were implications to discuss among the more senior males in the family and with their wives already gathered for the shower, this was a convenient time and place for them to meet.

            Between the ballroom and the sitting room was a tea room set up with drinks, snacks, and lite sandwiches. Then there was a side room set up like a nursery, to house the young children. Eiona and Teddy ran around in there with a dozen or more other children, watched by Molly Weasley, Dromeda Tonks, and a few house elves. The women of course joined Harry and Draco in the ballroom for the main festivities.

            Draco remained on a chaise, Harry curled into his side, at the head of a circle. Around the circle were a number of sofas, armchairs, and folding chairs. Anyone pregnant, like Pansy Zabini, or elderly, like Druella Black, were sitting on the more comfortable seats, while everyone else filled into the folding chairs. The Weasleys and Harry’s female friends, including Hermione and Luna, were there just like at the last baby shower. Neville was around, off with the men, and this time he’d sent his new girlfriend, Hannah, to deliver his present, his gran nowhere in sight. But that lot wasn’t even half of the guests. The wives of a number of Aurors, as well as pretty much every female Auror there was, came. And to top it off, all of Draco’s female friends and family were there.

            Despite all of his apprehension, Harry didn’t have any problems with Draco’s friends or family that day. All of the women were in high spirits, celebrating the new arrival. Draco was lavished with praise and attention by everyone, while Harry faded into the background, partially ignored. Draco turned frequently to him, as did many of the people who were here because they knew him, but it was clear that this was Draco’s day. Anyone who had a problem with Harry kept it to themselves and he did the same with them.

            There were a lot of gifts; a whole pile of them in one corner of the overly large room. Half of the party time was devoted to Draco opening them. There were far fewer gifts from the Weasleys this time around. Percy’s new wife Audrey and Bill’s wife Fleur presented them to the new parents, since Molly was in the nursery. Harry recognized a number of Molly’s handmade creations among the mix, including a half dozen baby blankets, a handful of hats and booties, and a couple little sweaters. Then there was some clothing, most of which looked like Arthur Weasley might’ve picked it out: covered in muggle vehicles, including cars, trucks, airplanes, motorbikes, and tractors.

            Molly had taken Harry aside last week, during a dinner at the Burrow, and said, “Now Harry, don’t expect as much as last time. With second children you’re expected to have plenty of hand-me-downs from the first baby.”

            That might’ve held true as far as the Weasleys were concerned, but given the sheer volume of presents they had to get through, it didn’t seem to hold for everyone else. Truthfully Harry was glad of all of the new things and didn’t want to use hand-me-downs, because all of Eiona’s things had been girly. Maybe they could be used again if they were having another girl, but with a son on the way, it was nice to be given new masculine things. Sure there were ways to glamour a flower covered swing or pram into something a bit more appropriate, but glamours had to be recast every day. The cloth could be transfigured, but never looked as nice and transfigured color tended to fade quickly.

            And thanks to their friends and family, they now had everything they could need in boy appropriate colors and patterns. They got a lot of blue, green, red, and grey items. Quidditch, owl, toad, and space were common themes. They even received the new swing cover in the wizard dinosaur space theme Harry had wanted, thanks to the Zabinis. Many of the guests took Draco’s suggestion and purchased only new covers for things they already had, such as the highchair and bouncer, but the pram was completely new, since it was a model for two to fit an active toddler and a new baby.

            Harry was never more glad of Draco tiring out so quickly as he was on that day. It meant there was a definitive end to the festivities when Draco waddled off to rest. Harry was then allowed to beg off from the huge mass of people, leaving Cissy to see them all out. The presents would be dealt with later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in posting. I’ve been working on writing a oneshot for the HD cliché fest on LiveJournal. It’s my first oneshot and my first time posting on LiveJournal. It will be up this weekend, if you want to check it out.
> 
> As for this story, I need to start building up to its conclusion, with Lucius coming home. I was a bit stuck on what to do with this chapter, until I thought long and hard about a review from CandorGirl. Thanks CanforGirl, for the inspiration!


	25. Chapter25

            Waking up an hour earlier than normal, Draco was up at nine that morning, in time to watch as Harry gave Eiona a bath. Normally she was given a bath before bed, but she hadn’t gone outside or gotten very dirty, so they had forgone the bath in lieu of sorting through baby shower presents. But it was Sunday and they went to visit Lucius on Sundays, so she needed a bath. And she needed it done right away, because they needed to be home after lunch, so that Draco could take a nap.

            An afternoon nap was quickly becoming the new routine for Draco. To Harry, it was a bit scary that Draco slept until nine and then was down for a nap by two, and it had Harry somewhat worried. But Harry wasn’t too worried, because Healer Smith said it was normal to need to rest even more now that Draco was seven and a half months pregnant. In fact Smith recommended it, because Draco’s blood pressure had been creeping up lately, like it had when pregnant with Eiona.

            Afternoon naps, long soaks in the tub, and less stress were all recommended, along with watching his blood pressure; Draco just added the blood pressure charm when he checked his blood sugar, so it wasn’t an inconvenience. Taking a nap in the afternoon meant that he was back up by dinnertime and refreshed enough to spend an hour or so awake afterwards. And it meant he was up early enough to witness morning bath time. He wanted to help, so he sat in a chair and watched while Harry tackled the toddler with soap as she played with her bath toys.

            “I have a bit of good news,” Harry said, working the shampoo potion through Eiona’s thick hair, dodging an errant flying toy boat. She liked to send her toys in a whirl around her while she bathed and said whirl didn’t always confine itself to the surface of the water, thanks to her innate magic. There were toy fish, flowers, and ants in with the typical mix of bubble coated boats and rubber ducks.

            It was a special magical shampoo that was designed to help troublesome hair stay in a neat formation, instead of just going everywhere the way Eiona’s hair tended to do on its own. Her hair didn’t naturally fall in ringlets, having a much wider curl to it, but the tighter curls were the only style they had found so far that managed to keep her wild head of hair under control. It had worked wonders, almost eliminating the need for constant hair care charms. In order to work, the hair had to be set into the desired confirmation with it in, before being washed out. Thus Harry was combing through a section of hair, wrapping the lock around his finger, before letting the ringlet go and repeating the process.

            “Oh, and what’s that?” Draco asked, looking adoringly at the two most important people in his life. A rubberized flower flopped out of the tub, creating a soapy puddle. Draco picked it up and plopped it back in the tub, to join the many other bath toys.

            “It’s about your father. I got called into the Minister’s office to talk to Fawley, Friday.”

            “And you’re just telling me this now? When is he coming home?” Draco asked excitedly.

            “Calm down, we’re not that far yet. It’s good news, but they aren’t ready to release him. I wanted to wait until after the baby shower, because I knew you’d be excited and that it would over shadow the party,” Harry admitted.

            Harry had recently given his much promised interview with the Daily Prophet. He went on record saying that Lucius had served enough time and that he wanted his father-in-law home on house arrest. He even promised to personally ensure Lucius didn’t get into any trouble, if the wizard were released. Needless to say Draco was very pleased with the resulting article.

            With the newly elected Fawley in the seat of Minister for Magic and his campaign promise to free lesser Death Eaters, Harry’s interview set off a media storm. Fawley put pressure on things to move forward from his end, sending his newly formed parole office into overdrive to complete the paperwork. Psychological evaluations were conducted this past week and court dates scheduled. And Lucius was bumped ahead to first in line to go home.

            The biggest setback to Lucius’ freedom turned out to be the fact that he wasn’t yet convicted of anything. With the Motor Neurone disease, his trial had been set back. His lawyers were ready to put on the trial of the century, but why bother with all of the costs when Fawley was willing to let Lucius off with house arrest? Still, there was the principle of the matter with Lucius unwilling to admit to being a murderous Death Eater, even if it meant he could go home. Fawley, for his part, didn’t want to lose the chance to use Lucius with his famous son-in-law to be the poster inmate for his new house arrest program. Therefore Fawley put pressure on the prosecutor to come up with a deal both sides could agree to.

            A possible plea deal between Lucius and the prosecutor’s office was one of the many things Fawley had wanted to talk to Harry about on Friday.

            “Fawley is offering your father a deal. If he pleads guilty to no more than the acts he’s already admitted, then he’ll receive time served plus house arrest for the rest of his life. It’s a very good deal; I think he should take it,” Harry explained.

            “And then he’ll be coming home? He could be home next week?” Draco asked excitedly, jumping the gun.

            “Hold on, the system doesn’t work that fast. The prosecutor has the weekend to put together the deal. Your father’s attorney should have it sometime tomorrow, but even if they sign it there is a lot of red tape they have to work through. This is the first case; they don’t know how it’s going to work.”

            “Oh.” The air was let out of Draco’s sails and he slumped a bit in his seat. At that moment a toy frog made a break from the tub, crawling up onto the rim, before jumping straight onto his considerably rounded lap. He was so lost in thought that he barely noticed the charmed frog, instinctively grabbing it and restraining it like he would a chocolate frog. “How long do you think it will take?”

            “That depends.”

            “On?”

            “Well there is a lot of public interest in the case; pressure from both sides. House arrest and parole are muggle concepts without much wizarding precedent. The whole concept is untested and it’s unknown how tightly the parolee needs to be magically bound or what restrictions need to be made. If your father is willing to be their test case and try out a whole series of different levels of restrictions, he could be here part time the week after next.”

            “The week after next! Does Mother know? Does Father?” Draco was excited again. The toy frog croaked right along with him, equally excited.

            “No, not until Monday, but you can tell them today if you want.”

            “Yes. Now we have to hurry up and go!” With that Draco flung his arms upwards, his grip on the frog loosening at the top of his arc. The frog took the opportunity to break free, jumping back into the bath.

            “Alright, but keep in mind that he’ll only be home part of the time at first and there will be lots of restrictions.”

            “Part time? What does that mean exactly?”

            “Well you know how I said I’d be personally responsible for Lucius?” Harry asked and Draco nodded. “And you know how the opposition jumped onto that with saying Lucius should be bound to me and have to be where I am?” The story was practically the only thing in the papers this week, with everyone who was anyone jumping in and having their say in the matter. Few people were willing to go on record saying Harry should be denied anything, but the staunchest opposition were saying to let him put his money where his mouth was. The news that Harry had moved into Malfoy Manor meant that it would be convenient for him to personally watch Lucius at all times.

            “Yes, but you’re an Auror. Your boss Robards is on record saying that my father can’t be allowed to come into work with you, so a magical bind will not work,” Draco replied.

            “Yeah, but they’ve come up with a better idea. Instead of binding him to me, they are just going to release him into my custody when I get off of work. I’ll have to take him back with me when I go to work in the morning. They only want to do it for a month or so, while they are experimenting with the terms and restrictions. It would mean he could come home with me after work a week from tomorrow, instead of waiting in jail while all that red tape is cleared away. If things work well, they’ll probably cut that part short and let him stay here without me.”

            “So we would only have him nights and weekends?” Draco asked.

            “Yes, but just for the first month or less and it would mean getting him back right away.”

            “Alright, I’ll talk to him about it. Is there any way you want to stay home from work for the next month?”

            Harry shook his head. “No, I can’t take the time off. I need my days off for you and our son. I already told them I plan on taking the entire month of March off.”

            Draco perked up a bit at the memory of Harry telling him about the plan to take off the first month of their son’s life from work. It was more than Harry had taken off for Eiona.

            “There, is this alright?” Harry asked, forming the last ringlet on Eiona’s squirming head.

            “Yes, stand back,” Draco replied, pulling out his wand and casting the setting charm on the hair potion just as Harry leaned away. It was important to act quickly, before the curls could be messed up. Although Eiona stayed put when someone was actively doing her hair, she often dived into the water the moment she was let go.

            “Alright, all done, Princess,” Harry announced.

            Eiona squealed and splashed, sending water all over herself and her dad. Then Harry rinsed out the hair potion, cleaning behind her ears while he was at it.

            “Just think, my father should be home permanently before this baby is born,” Draco said.

            Cleaning in between Eiona’s toes and scrubbing extra on her dirt-stained knees, Harry replied, “Yeah, maybe he can help sort through all that stuff we got yesterday.”

            “Mother already has an elf sorting through it, you know, putting up the things we won’t need right away and putting the new covers on the old things.”

            “Draco, if you are half as picky about Orion’s room as you were about Eiona’s, there is still a lot of work in store for me.”

            Draco waved Harry off and conceded, “I guess not all of that fuss was needed, especially not right away, but it is nice to have.”

            “Yes it is. And perhaps now that we know what we’ve been given, you will get around to picking the theme and color palette so that I can paint.” Harry was rinsing the suds off of Eiona, almost done, and deflecting the swirling toys into a pile by the drain.

            “I’m not doing Quidditch or muggle vehicles, so you can just get those ideas out of your mind right now.”

            Harry let the water out of the tub. “Why don’t you just get it over with and choose the Orion constellation, like we both know you want to. It will match all of the space patterned things we were given and we can add in a flying saucer with an alien inside. It will be cute.”

            “I haven’t decided; all that midnight blue is too dark for a nursery. I might go with a forest scene and portray the story of Orion the huntsman. All of the owl and toad things will match that. Even the crup things wouldn’t be out of place in a forest,” Draco replied, handing Harry a towel to wrap around their daughter.

            Eiona yelled for her toys, complaining about the lack of bubbles and water now that bath time was over. Harry wrapped her struggling limbs in the towel and handed over her favorite toy ant, to stop the wriggling. “Oh, I hadn’t thought of that,” he admitted.

            “Did you want stars then?”

            “Oh yeah, I thought stars would be cool. We could have a giant sun and moon and a few constellations and aliens. Oh, and a rocket ship; definitely a large rocket ship. It didn’t occur to me that the background would be too dark. Come on, off to the nursery; time to dress Eiona for the day,” Harry said, hefting the towel covered toddler out of the bath.

            Draco complied, and together they turned down the hall in the direction of Eiona’s room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Which nursery would you rather see; the astrological one Harry described or the forest one Draco did?
> 
> And then there’s the elephant in the room: Lucius coming home is obviously next. Harry hasn’t seen him since Christmas, since he’s been too busy lately to volunteer at the hospital. What do you think Lucius will have to say to Harry? What should Lucius do upon his return home? Wash and spend time with his family are obvious, but what personal endeavors has this man left behind? His job, his hobbies, his favorite foods and drinks, or his daily routine? Does anyone have any ideas?
> 
> I think the hardest part about writing a story is writing the end. I know this one ends with Lucius coming home (actually slightly after), but writing his home coming is proving challenging. To top it off I’m at the point of my PhD where I feel like quitting; I just want to go back home and relax. But I’ve made an important decision: when I finish, I’m going on vacation. A long vacation. I’m going to take a year off and chill and spend two months of summer bumming around the beach in Hawaii. In conclusion, I could really use some inspiration right about now; to finish this story, to finish my PhD, and to make it to the beach. Please leave me some inspiration.


	26. Chapter26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got about an even number of votes for forest and astrological, and an even larger number of votes for both. Thank you all for the inspiration. I think I’ll have Harry painting the nursery next chapter!

            The Monday of the following week, Harry reported to the Ministry’s Secure Treatment Facility. Minister Fawley himself was there in Lucius’ room as they prepared to release their first prisoner. Lucius’ nurse already had him looking his best; freshly bathed and dressed in his finest robes with his long grey hair brushed and pulled neatly back. He had no wand, as part of his initial probationary restrictions, but he did have the Malfoy cane, which Draco had insisted upon. Lucius required a cane to walk and the Malfoy cane had the advantage of possessing a strong shield charm, which would protect him; given the lack of the wand, it might come in handy.

            Elliott Kyffin, the department head Fawley had appointed to be in charge of his newly created Parole Department was there, along with Senior Auror Dragonrider. Between Kyffin and Dragonrider, they were in charge of this whole parole experiment. If something went wrong, Fawley would place the blame squarely on their shoulders. Thus they were going over the legal forms with Lucius and his attorney Peregrine, doting every I and crossing every T. They were very thorough in making sure that everyone involved understood the restrictions before Lucius was released into Harry’s care.

            The initial restrictions were numerous, with the parolee required to report back into Auror custody in the morning, when Harry was due for work. The plan was to slowly increase Lucius’ freedoms during Harry’s off hours, so that if there was any loophole they’d missed, he would be home to deal with it. Once the final terms were worked out, tested, and agreed upon by the Wizengamot, the babysitting detail would end and Lucius would be released permanently.

            The goal was to have everything worked out in a month. This first day Lucius would be limited to a small part of the Manor: his bedroom, office, and personal sitting room. That would be increased to cover the entire third floor of that wing of the house, then that entire wing of the house, then the entire Manor, followed by all of the Manor grounds, and eventually all of the Malfoy family’s properties within the country. The Malfoys owned multiple properties, which all had to be investigated and analyzed before he could be allowed free reign. That was one of the reasons why an entire month was needed to reach the final stage.

            Traveling by non-magical means from one location to another would violate the terms of Lucius’ parole, because it would involve physically passing through out of bounds areas. That was why he’d eventually be allowed to travel by both apparition and floo. It wasn’t an issue yet, with him being limited to just three rooms, but it could potentially cause trouble if convicted Death Eaters were just let loose with such freedom. He might not cause any trouble, but he was only the test case upon which the releases of hundreds of other Death Eaters would be based. Thus it was critical that the parolee be tightly bound to the terms of his release.

            To ensure absolute compliance to the letter of all terms, Lucius and all future parolees were to be bound with the unbreakable vow. And because his release terms were still experimental, his vow was to last only until the next morning, when he vowed to return to the Secure Treatment Facility where he was normally housed. Harry watched as Lucius vowed to abide by the law, not be involved in any Death Eater activity, never hold a wand up against a Ministry employee, and stay at Malfoy Manor, unless his life depended on it. Even if his life was in danger, he swore to only apparate to one of three places, the Secure Treatment Facility, St. Mungo’s, or a halfway house for parolees that Fawley was just establishing. Because he was putting his life on the line, he was given the one out that if situations arose that would lead to his breaking this vow, he was to report immediately back to the Secure Treatment Facility and apprise an Auror.

            With the vow finished, the parole office had a few forms for Lucius to sign. Once the proper signatures were in place, Dragonrider gave Harry one last reminder, “Now remember, Potter, you are _not_ to leave him alone at Malfoy Manor. If you leave, Lucius here _needs_ to be brought back. That includes trips to the Zabini’s or the Weasley’s.”

            Harry hadn’t been to a Sunday dinner at the Weasleys in a month, since he was concerned about leaving Draco during the final trimester. Sure he had to leave his husband sometimes, including his forty hours a week spent at work, but he only did that as much as he had to. He’d even started planning his errands around Draco’s waking hours, dinner being an hour his husband was almost always awake for. Thus he’d declined the last few invites to the Burrow and hadn’t even bothered asking Draco to go with.

            As for the Zabini’s, Pansy’s baby shower was this upcoming weekend. Harry had already said he’d go with Draco and when previously asked about any reason why he wouldn’t be able to watch Lucius during the upcoming month, he’d revealed as much. Knowing Draco and Cissy, they would have the baby shower relocated to the Malfoy ball room just so that Lucius wouldn’t be taken back to the Ministry’s Holding Facility a moment early. Then again, it was last minute and Draco was approaching his eighth month, so maybe they wouldn’t.

            “Not to worry. I’ll bring Lucius back for the shower and pick him up afterwards,” Harry promised.

            “That’s a good chap, see that you do,” Fawley said, clapping Harry on the elbow to initiate a final handshake.

            Peregrine was next up with the handshake, saying, “Make sure you take care of my client, Auror Potter. It was good doing business with you.”

            Dragonrider and Kyffin shook Harry’s hand as well and with that, Lucius was left in his care. He side alonged them to the designated sitting room, which was in the same wing of the house Harry and Draco used, but one floor up. Harry knew it as Cissy’s sitting room, but it had always been shared by the couple. Lucius’ bedroom was the next door over and also shared. His office was conveniently located off of his sitting room. From the time he was a child, until the war, he had control of the entire floor, with a private bedroom, sitting room, drawing room, office, and potion laboratory, but half of those rooms were off limits for now. Before those rooms could be added to his list of acceptable locations, the Auror department would have to go through them with a fine toothed comb and ensure that there was nothing dangerous in them. Given that it had taken the entire week just to clear these three rooms, it would probably take a while.

            Cissy greeted Lucius with a plethora of arduous kisses, which Harry didn’t want to see, so he slipped out of the room. Harry went downstairs, where he retrieved Eiona from an elf in the nursery, Draco still being asleep for the regular afternoon nap. He brought his daughter up to see her grandfather, clearing his throat loudly upon his re-entry, to make sure the older couple knew he was there. Lucius and Cissy broke apart from their kiss then, Lucius greeting his granddaughter enthusiastically. “Eiona! My precious granddaughter! Come to Grandfather for some kisses!”

            After Eiona came and was kissed to the point of fussing, Lucius finally changed gears. “Where is Draco?” Lucius asked, letting Eiona down.

            “Asleep,” Harry replied.

            “He’ll be up by dinner time,” Cissy added.

            “I am eager to see him,” Lucius said.

            “And why is that? You saw him just last week.” Harry pointed out. “You’re not planning on causing any trouble, are you?”

            “No, on the contrary. I am eagerly awaiting the addition of my grandson. In the meantime, I shall endeavor to play with my precious Ipheion,” Lucius said to Harry, before turning to Eiona and using a higher voice. “Eiona, dear! Come back to grandfather.”

            Eiona looked torn between going to the adults and continuing her attempt at climbing up the display case in the room, trying to reach a crystal serpent that was slithering realistically and making hissing noises as its tongue darted in and out of its mouth. It was just like her to go for the most dangerous looking thing in the room.

            “Grandfather has a surprise for you,” Lucius said, holding out his arms, his cane propped up on the side of the rocker.

            Eiona abandoned the crystal snake and toddled over to Lucius. He sat down on the settee with her and helped her climb up into his lap. He then picked up a lollipop from the end table and offered it to her. She took it with a smile, popped into her mouth, and snuggled into the old man.

            “Such a good girl,” Lucius said, stroking Eiona’s blond curls. “She reminds me of my Cissy.”

            “Lucius?” Harry asked, wanting to get this over with, before Draco woke.

            “Yes Harry?”

            “Next week Draco and I have a court date,” Harry said. It would be the first since Draco had agreed to put the divorce on hold. “I plan on asking the court to throw out the case. If Draco seconds the motion, it will be the end of the divorce.” The documents they’d filed would still be in the records and the divorce could be reinitiated for up to twelve months, but as long as neither of them did anything, it would be the end of the divorce proceedings.

            “And you wish to know what I think of this? You are not certain enough of your husband’s mind to trust that his father has no sway?” Lucius asked, eyeing Harry quizzically.

            “I just want to know what you and Cissy are thinking. I didn’t ask your permission to seek Draco’s hand and I should have. Now I am on the verge of having him back permanently and I am asking your approval,” Harry clarified.

            With the way things were going, the divorce was all but officially canceled. Harry and Draco’s marriage was stronger than ever, with the two of them communicating openly and honestly on a regular basis. Harry was so close to his goal of permanently getting his family back that he could taste it. But, he didn’t know how Lucius’ return would affect that, which made him nervous. Plus, he’d been so busy lately preparing for the new baby and pampering Draco that he hadn’t had a chance to volunteer at the Secure Treatment Facility. In fact, he hadn’t seen Lucius since Christmas.

            “Divorce is unbefitting of a Malfoy and should only be undertaken with the most extreme circumstances,” Lucius answered.

            “Er…” Harry wasn’t sure if this qualified as extreme circumstances or not, he was after all, a halfblood and the Savior of the Wizarding World.

            “Mister Potter, I would never sacrifice my son’s happiness for my own means. I am grateful to you for helping to obtain my release, but if you ever treat my son that way again, I will personally murder you with my bare hands if I must. I don’t care if my parole and my wand are dependent on good behavior,” Lucius warned.

            “And if I do my best to treat him right? I promise to never treat him like that again. I was selfish and inconsiderate of his feelings and what’s worse was that I didn’t realize he was sick.”

            “Then I hold marriage with the upmost sanctity and you will not have a problem from me,” Lucius answered.

            “Welcome back to the family Harry,” Cissy concluded from her husband’s side.

            Harry sighed with relief, the Lucius hurdle navigated. With Draco’s parents on his side, things were looking up. They’d soon go to court and dismiss the entire divorce case. And it wouldn’t be long after that until their son comes into the world. Everything would turn out alright.

            Harry sat down on Eiona’s other side on the settee and Cissy squeezed in next to Lucius. Together the three adults happily listened to Eiona narrate a story she was acting out between her favorite toy ant, a hybrid ant/beetle, a wooden unicorn, and a stuffed dog. Eiona had pushed the unicorn into Lucius’ hands and he was now moving the figurine in a galloping like motion and making neighing sounds whenever Eiona pushed her ant towards him. Cissy had the stuffed dog and she reached out to tickle Eiona with it whenever the ant went her way. Harry had the hybrid bug, which he was pretending was munching on the sofa, until Eiona’s ant came back over to scold him again.

            “An’ isses,” Eiona said, holding the ant out to her grandmother and making a kissing noise.

            Cissy was having her stuffed dog kiss Eiona’s ant back when Draco entered the room.

            “Father!” Draco exclaimed, rushing forward as fast as he could in his heavily pregnant state.

            Lucius lifted Eiona off of his lap, handing her over to Harry. He rose up, reaching an arm out to Cissy to steady him on his crippled legs, and embraced in son. “Draco,” he breathed lovingly.

            Harry got up with Eiona, both in order to hug Draco and so that his husband could have his seat.

            “Thank you for getting my father back. Our lives will be so much fuller now that we have the grandfather of our children living with us,” Draco said to Harry, returning the hug vigorously.

* * *

 

            They took dinner in that sitting room that evening, Draco and Eiona both staying up well past the usual hour. Harry saw them both to bed, before taking the usual time to himself. Cissy was there to help with Eiona, but with Draco so heavily pregnant, Harry felt obligated to take care of his daughter himself when he could. It wasn’t as simple as before, because he was no longer dropping his daughter off and leaving; now she was always just in the next room over and hard to ignore.

            Freshly showered and dressed in his pajamas, Harry headed back up to the approved sitting room. He intended to see Lucius to bed as well, after all, he was responsible for the man, but from the stairway he could tell that the room was dark, the wall sconces having been extinguished. When he gained the landing, the sitting room was empty. The lights were off too in the bedroom and for a moment he thought Lucius and Cissy had gone to sleep. Then he noticed the light coming from under the door to Lucius’ office.

            Harry let himself into the office, both his father-in-law and an old male elf looking up at him as the door opened. It wasn’t often that Harry saw the old elf, who kept well out of the way and never tended the humans of the house, but he knew it was Doddy. Doddy had been Dobby’s father and was Dobson and Dotty’s grandfather. Doddy was standing on a chair next to the one Lucius was seated in and they were both bent over a large desk strewn with bits of silicone, solder, half assembled computer chips, and paper; not parchment, but muggle paper.

            “What’s going on?” Harry asked, surprised.

            “I am catching up for lost time. I can sleep while you are at work, Harry,” Lucius answered.

            Harry blinked, opening and closing his mouth a few times while thoughts formed in his head. It didn’t help that it’d been a long day and he was tired. It hadn’t occurred to him that Lucius would do anything other than sleep during nights of freedom. Now that it was happening, he couldn’t come up with anything against it, although he had a vague sense that there was something wrong with it. Lucius should be with Cissy, catching up with the wife he hadn’t been alone with since the end of the war, not working. If it were Harry, he’d be shagging Draco senseless right about now; he shuddered to think of Lucius doing so with Cissy, but still, this wasn’t right.

            “Yeah, but what are you doing?” Harry finally got around to asking.

            “Elves do not learn to make computer chips on their own, Harry, surely that must be self-apparent. Muggles, on the other hand, do not purchase outmoded computer chips. I am not sure if you are familiar with muggle technology, but it is basically replaced every two years and I have been locked up for three. The chips Doddy here makes are currently selling for a fraction of what they were when I taught him to make them. Thus I am attempting to train the elf to make the latest model.” Towards the end, Lucius indicated both the partial computer chip and the papers.

            Peering over the desk, Harry saw the papers were indeed technical manufacturing details on the production of muggle computer chips. “Where did you get those?” he asked, referring to the papers. He was aware of the elf’s manufacture of computer chips in the house, so none of the rest of it was out of the ordinary. The computer stuff and the elf had even been in the room, where they always were, when the Aurors had cleared it.

            “Cissy obtained them for me. I assure you that she paid for the proper license from the muggle inventor.” With that Lucius rose from his chair and began leafing through his filing cabinet and pulled out a file folder. He removed a thick stack of muggle paper, bound with a clip, and handed it over for Harry to see.

            The papers were the bill of sale of manufacturing rights for computer chips. Harry didn’t know what to make of them. He blinked, taken aback. He’d been positive he spoke muggle—he even could’ve sworn the muggles spoke the same language wizards did—but looking at those papers, he started to second guess himself; there were just so many words that he didn’t know. There was more blinking and more mouth gaping before Lucius said, “See here,” and pointed out the date and signature, which were really the only relevant parts. Lucius had a filing cabinet full of similar muggle parchments and the only thing that made this one different was that it was new, dated last month and signed by Cissy as the purchaser.

            “Right,” Harry said slowly, finally processing that everything going on was legal. “And why aren’t you spending the night with your wife? You know, doing conjugal stuff?” He waved his hands around in the air, as if to indicate the words he didn’t want to say.

            “Frankly, I do not think that is any of your business,” Lucius answered in a stern tone, as if he were in charge here, not the other way around.

            It was only then that it occurred to Harry that inmates at the Secure Holding Facility were allowed conjugal visits; Lucius even had a bed. His mouth fell open in a silent oh. Then he closed it, before finally asking, “And are you going to be at this all night?”

            “Yes. Elves do not learn quickly and this is a highly complicated task; there is a reason why all wizards do not attempt elven manufacture. I happen to have a special knack,” here the elf winced, indicating just what sort of knack Lucius had, “for the process.”

            Harry groaned, thinking of Hermione. “You know Fawley is reforming house elf-rights, don’t you? If you hurt him,” here he was referring to the elf, not the Minister, “your role as poster-boy for the probation program is history.”

            “Harry, I have no plans on laying a hand on this elf ever again.” Doddy’s ears perked up, his neck straightening to hold high head higher. “Doddy is already highly trained and repetition _should_ be enough for him to learn.” The elf’s head went back down. “I plan on working with Doddy here all night, every night, for the next month if I have to. Doddy _will_ learn and the Malfoy family _will_ make money again.”

            “Right. And Doddy? Is this true? You haven’t been hurt?” Harry asked, turning to the elf.

            “Yes, Master Harry Potter, sir. Doddy is not being hurt.” The yet was implied.

            “See to it that it stays that way, yeah Lucius?” Harry asked.

            Lucius nodded. Harry nodded back; finally satisfied, he turned and left, going to join Draco in bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me a while to figure it out, but I decided the computer chips should be Lucius’ first order of business. After all, the Malfoy family’s income has been on the decline for years now, while their numbers keep growing. It’s time he made some money. Lucius seems like the type to put money first, above family, and he has been allowed plenty of visitation with his family while incarcerated.
> 
>  
> 
> Up next there will have to be more Lucius and a court date for Draco and Harry. Very soon the divorce will officially be history! Please Review!


	27. Chapter27

             A week later saw Harry and Draco back in court for the final time. Harry smiled from ear to ear, actually hurting his face, as he told the warlock he wished to have the divorce proceedings dismissed. His chest felt like it would burst with joy, as he watched Draco stand there, back bent back with a hand resting in the arch for support, as his husband said the same. It was a simple proceeding, but with it meant so much.

 

* * *

 

            Hearing someone entering the neighboring nursery, Harry at first wondered if it was Draco. He was in Eiona’s bedroom with her, slipping a nightgown over the freshly washed blond curls, having just given her a bath. He thought Draco was also in the bath, but now reckoned his husband was finished and taking a detour on the way to her room. At eight months pregnant, Draco was larger than he’d been at this stage with Eiona, almost as big as he’d been full term, but he was carrying it better and still walking around. He was also staying up later, to spend more time with his father, but waking later in the morning to compensate.

            Draco was expected in Eiona’s room for story time, but did occasionally wander into the new nursery. When this happened, Harry would find him sitting in a conjured rocker, his hand on his gigantic belly, staring off into space. Typically Harry would ask what Draco was doing and Draco would shrug it off, saying it was nothing, but once had admitted that he was thinking about their son, picturing what the new baby would be like. Harry thought that was what Draco was doing now.

            “Doddy!” Eiona exclaimed, lunging wildly in Harry’s arms. After a second, she broke free of his grasp and ran towards the window.

            Harry thought for a moment that the young elf, Dotty had appeared, since Eiona called her Doddy too—at the age of two, she wasn’t terribly understandable. She might also have meant Dotty’s grandfather, who happened to be named Doddy. That had led to many erroneous calls of the elf. Doddy was the family’s working elf who made muggle computer chips; he was not on call to tend to the children. Thus Cissy had ordered Doddy to ignore all calls by Eiona for the elf. And since she never seemed to mean she wanted the boring old elf to respond, there hadn’t yet been a problem with this rule.

            Then Harry saw the doxy in the curtain and realized what Eiona was on about. She loved pixies and doxies almost as much as she loved ants; she even loved the mice and rats out in the garden. If it was considered a pest, she was fascinated and wanted to pick it up. Of course that usually led to bites, which was why he called out, “Oh no you don’t,” and scooped her up in his arms.

            “Doddy,” Eiona cried, whimpering her protest in a voice that sounded like it was moments away from devolving into a tantrum.

            “No, no doxies for Daddy’s princess. Let’s go check on Father,” Harry suggested, bending down to pick up Eiona’s favorite ant toy and handing it to her. “Here, ant.” He made a mental note to look for doxy or pixie toys next time he went to the store. This tantrum would be more easily appeased if he could hand over a fake doxy, but he didn’t dare transfigure one. Transfiguring was a temporary solution that led to more problems when it transformed back and the toy was gone; he’d learned that lesson last year with Teddy.

            “Fatter? An?” Eiona asked, in a voice that promised only a temporary reprieve from the fit that was brewing. Draco was one of her favorite people, far and above Harry, although she had only recently started adding the T-sound in the middle of his name, having called him Fa-er since she was less than a year; before that it had been Fa-Fa since she was six months old. She may have said Da-Da first, but Harry had no doubt that that was only because it was easier to say. Draco had always been the preferred parent.

            “Yes, let’s go show Father your ant,” Harry repeated, striding for the door, hoping that movement would make Eiona forget about the fit she was throwing.

            “Doddy!” Eiona screeched in complaint, arms held straight in the direction of her curtains and feet kicking into Harry’s stomach. The problem with two-year-olds, Harry reasoned, was that they were less easily distracted. They remembered what they wanted; Teddy was the same way, although slightly less spoiled. But then Teddy was approaching three and getting to the point where he could be reasoned with.

            “Yes, but we need to fetch Father to show _him_ the doxy, don’t we?” Harry asked, gaining the doorway.

            “Fatter doddy?” Eiona asked, seeming appeased.

            “Yes, we need to show Father the doxy,” Harry insisted, spotting the wrong Malfoy in the nursery. Lucius was the right height, but his hair was too grey and too long and his build too slender, stooped over the Malfoy cane.

            Lucius’ treatment of the house elves had been exemplary so far. Doddy didn’t have a scratch on him and when asked, the elf insisted vigorously that he hadn’t been harmed. After a week the wizard had been authorized to floo back and forth by himself, although he was still required to return to the Holding Facility when Harry was away. Each day the Aurors cleared more of the Malfoy Manor and each evening the unbreakable vow granted just that bit more freedom to move around. He’d been cleared to access the first, after the first week, and second, as of today, floors of Malfoy Manor. That clearance probably had a lot to do with why he hadn’t stepped foot into the second nursery until today and as to why Harry was surprised to see him there.

            Seeing the wand in Lucius’ hand was also a new sight. He’d recently been granted his wand back, after an unbreakable vow to only use certain classes of begin spells. All jinxes, curses, and hexes were categorically out, with only the most blatantly innocent of charms, conjuring, and transfiguration allowed, most of which were deemed to be of necessity in day-to-day life, and the rest of which deemed to be necessary to his livelihood in computer chip manufacturing. The violation of the Statute of Secrecy caused by wizards making muggle products being overlooked by all involved, as long as it was done in a way where the muggles were unaware and sold only technology that had been developed by muggles.

            “Ga-fatter!” Eiona exclaimed, forgetting about the doxy and struggling to break free.

            Harry let his daughter down and watched her nearly bowl Lucius down in her eagerness. Lucius huffed and let out a gasp of surprise as he righted himself, Eiona hugging him about the knees. He temporally lowered both hands to grasp her, but then raised his wand back up to resume pointing it at the walls.

            “Lucius? What are you doing here?” Harry asked in surprise. He expected Lucius to either be spending time with Cissy or training the elf Doddy to produce computer chips, but not to be messing about in the second nursery.

            “Painting the nursery,” Lucius answered, waving his wand and making a drawing of a sunset appear on the wall to prove his point.

            “But I’m going to do that,” Harry protested. Sure they had called in a professional to paint the flowers on the walls of Eiona’s original nursery, but he had applied the underlying base paint himself. He would’ve insisted on painting her new room at Malfoy Manor too, but Cissy had had it painted and decorated with a garden theme before Draco had moved out of Grimmauld Place. He was bound and determined that he was going to do this new nursery himself. The problem with that was that Draco had yet to make up his mind and tell Harry what theme he wanted for the room: Orion the hunter or Orion the constellation.

            “I can see that.” Lucius raised his eyebrows and looked from Harry to the surrounding white walls, painted only with a basecoat.

            “Well he hasn’t made up his mind, has he?” Harry’s question was rhetorical, because he knew his husband hadn’t; he’d be the first to know if Draco had. Or maybe Cissy would, but regardless, he’d seen Draco just before Eiona’s bath and there had been no sign of a decision then.

            “Ga’fatter! An’!” Eiona demanded attention.

            “Yes, Sweet Flower, that is a wonderful ant. May I see?” Lucius asked, bending down to take the toy from her outstretched hand. “My son isn’t going to make up his mind. My heir will be born before Draco ceases his vacillations.”

            “Well it’s Draco’s decision. You’ve no right to force the issue,” Harry retorted.

            “Ah, but I do. You see, Harry, I happen to know my son’s mind better than he knows himself. I know what he wants, even if he doesn’t know it yet.” Lucius gave the toy back to his granddaughter, who promptly put it in her mouth contently, still hugging his legs with one arm. The doxy was apparently forgotten.

            “How can you know?”

            “See for yourself,” Lucius answered with the wave of his wand. All of a sudden a projection appeared on the white walls, overlaid with the drawings he’d made so far, and Eiona gasped in delight.

            One wall was completely filled with forest: trees, a centaurian huntsman with bow, and a deer. An adjacent wall contained a large and gnarled willow tree full of nesting birds, while on the other, the forest faded into the water, a small dragon crawling its way along the bank. The wall opposite was filled with a sun setting over a lake. The surrounding sky went through every color in the rainbow, but was mostly pink, orange, and purple. The colored faded into a dark greyish blue just as it swept passed a full silver grey moon, and went on to fill the ceiling, which was not nearly as dark blue as one would expect for the night’s sky. In the middle of the ceiling, was the constellation Orion, in soft yellow tones. It was the perfect combination of both themes and not too dark at all.

            “How do you know that’s what he wants?” Harry asked peevishly, wishing he’d thought of it.

            “Because, Harry, let me show you something. Vile Thing!” Lucius called.

            Dotty’s mother, Vile Thing, appeared with a loud crack. “Yes Master?”

            “Bring the photo album from when Draco was first born,” Lucius answered. There was a photo album full of pictures of his son from each year of Draco’s life. Harry had seen them lined up neatly in a bookshelf full of Malfoy photos albums. He’d seen many of the pictures, but there were so many he hadn’t seen them all. At the moment, he couldn’t even remember any relevant details from the ones he had seen.

            “Yes Master,” Vile Thing replied with a snap of her fingers. The correct photo album was instantly in her grasp and she handed it over to Lucius.

            Lucius struggled with the album, Eiona pulling on his robes to see, since she couldn’t reach his arms. “Conjure me a chair, Vile Thing.” He’d been ordering the elf to see to his every whim since coming home, due to his previous lack of a wand. Now he could do such spells himself, but he wasn’t used to being able to; after all, he hadn’t been allowed a wand while in Ministry custody for the last three years.

            Vile Thing snapped her fingers again and a chair appeared. Lucius sat, Eiona climbed into his arms, and he positions the album in front of her. He opened it, and once he settled on a page, she pushed her toy out into the page of pictures, showing her ant. “Dwaddon,” she said fascinated, crooking a finger of her left hand into her mouth, her right still holding onto the ant toy.

            “Here, look,” Lucius said, attempting to rotate the album one hundred eighty degrees for Harry to see, but turned it back to himself when his granddaughter fussed.

            Harry looked over to see the photos upside down. In them there was a nursery set up with the same Malfoy nursery furniture that had been in Eiona’s room and that were destined for Orion’s nursery, as soon as it was painted that was. The walls were brightly painted with a giant green dragon, a theme which he now recognized as belonging to Draco’s nursery. These were photos of Draco’s childhood room, taken shortly before he was born, when it was newly painted.

            In the images, a single dragon covered one wall, its wings spreading onto both adjoining walls. Behind one wing were billowing clouds of smoke, while the other wing was the backdrop to the dragon’s fiery breath. The wall opposite the dragon contained a giant nest filled with five large eggs, one of which was the subject of the blast of fire. On the ceiling was the constellation Draco. The stars were large and a soft yellow, surrounded by a dark greyish blue, the same colors in the projection that still filled the current room. Although different constellations, the images were eerily similar.

            Harry gasped as he realized without a doubt that this was what Draco would want for their son; the mirror image of the room he himself had had as a baby. “You’re right, it’s perfect,” Harry admitted to Lucius.

            “Yes, it is, isn’t it?” Lucius asked rhetorically and Eiona nodded, not understanding the conversation, but eager to agree.

            Harry nodded too. “But it is missing a few things.”

            “Like what?”

            “A rocket ship and a flying saucer with an alien inside.”

            “A what kind of ship with a flying plate and a German?” Apparently Germans were what Lucius thought of when the word alien came to mind.

            Harry was about to try to explain the muggle science fiction elements, but then thought better of it. “Never mind, I’ll show you.” He waved his own wand and gave his best effect at the projection spell, although his results weren’t as breath taking as Lucius’ were; they were transparent and far less real looking. There was indeed the projection of a bright red rocket ship bursting out of the cloud, sending Lucius’ birds in the willow tree off in a frenzy. In addition, a blue flying saucer was added to the ceiling, squeezing into a bit of space not taken up by the stars. The alien was visible through the window of the flying saucer.

            “Are they muggle things then?” Lucius asked, eyes narrowed.

            “Yes, but Draco approves.”

            “Are you certain of this, or do you just want him to?”

            “I’m certain.” Harry smiled as he recalled taking Draco out to a few muggle scifi movies in the theater. Draco had loved them.

            “Alright, then I will add them. Now do me a favor and help me keep this a surprise for my son. Leave the room and cast a silencing charm.”

            It was one thing for Harry to agree, but quite another for him to manage getting Eiona away from her grandfather. In the end, it was only the remembered doxy in the other nursery that convinced her to go and that opened up a whole other can of worms. He closed the door and cast a silencing charm behind him, but was soon faced with a full blown fit, given that the doxy had been eradicated by Dotty the elf in their absence. The young elf had standing orders to kill all vermin spotted in the child’s room, for safety reasons and had even disposed of the carcass, but now there was no doxy to placate Eiona with.

            The only thing that calmed the child down from her fit, was when Draco, fresh from his long bath, finally arrived for story time. “Why all of the fuss my princess?” Draco asked, sitting down in the rocking chair and pulling down one of Eiona’s favorite bedtime stories.

            Eiona ran from Harry’s arms, flinging them away from her in her zeal to be away, and into Draco’s. “Daddy dead doddy,” she told.

            “You killed our elf?” Draco asked confused.

            “No, your elf killed a treasured doxy. I tried to tell her we would get a new doxy tomorrow-” Here Draco cut Harry off.

            “We are not getting a pet doxy. Are you out of your mind?” Draco asked.

            “A toy one. Either stuffed or carved, but something.”

            “How about those doxy-curtains that Weasley is selling?”

            George, having spent enough time around Vicky, Teddy, and Eiona to know that vermin were all the rage with two-year-olds, had decided to sell a whole range of pseudo-infected décor. Rugs with charmed mice popping out from under them, curtains spelled to look doxy-infested, with the occasional phantom to fly about and make noise, and bedspreads that wriggled like they were infested with snakes. Draco had previously been adamant that they weren’t getting them, but apparently was changing his mind.

            “Yeah, alright, but once we get her in there you know she’s going to want the snake bedspread and the mouse rug too,” Harry replied.

            “No, we still aren’t getting either of those; she’s not going in. You are leaving her here while you pick them up. And do pick pretty ones with flowers or something nice, not the authentic old looking ones,” Draco concluded, before turning to the crying toddler in his lap. “Did you hear that Princess? Tomorrow Daddy is going to Uncle Weasley’s store and buying you new curtains that come _with_ doxies.”

            “Yay! Doddies!” Eiona exclaimed.

            “Alright, story and then bed,” Harry concluded, pulling the book out from where it had fallen on Draco’s side, wedged into the chair by the large belly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The new baby will arrive next chapter! Actually, I’m thinking I might end the story there. I was going to do this climatic bit with Lucius after the birth, but now I’m rethinking it. Does the story feel like it’s coming to a proper ending? The only loose tie I can think of at the moment is that I was going to have them move back into Grimmauld Place, after the renovations are finished.  
> Please Review!


	28. Chapter28

            Now that Lucius had painted the new nursery, it was time to fill it. The Malfoy house elves had already added the Malfoy nursery furniture in just the arrangement Draco requested. Cissy and Draco had been hard at work putting away piles of new clothes and linens. The new masculine covers on half a dozen items had switched out the old floral ones they’d had for Eiona. All that was left to do was to set up the new carseat and pack a bag for the hospital. Having the most experience with muggle vehicles, Harry put himself in charge of the carseat.

            Strictly speaking, being wizards, they didn’t need to use a car, but magical travel was problematic for young children. Apparition required concentration and was dangerous with squirming children, while floo travel was unpleasant and usually resulted in crying. They would probably take a portkey home from St. Mungo’s, because of the distance between London and Wiltshire. But where possible, they preferred to transport babies the muggle way by calling a taxi. There were plenty of places around Wiltshire they might want to take Orion, like over to Healer Smith’s clinic.

            Thus Harry was determined to tackle the carseat today. He was threading the strap into the lowest hole, in anticipation of having a newborn, when a loud crack of house elf apparition startled him. His hand jumped, the strap missed the hole, and the seat was sent rocking back, but didn’t tip over.

            Hissy was there, bowing low and grabbing Harry’s arm at the same time. “Something has happened to Master Draco. Hissy take Master Harry to him,” she said.

            “Ye-.”

            Harry didn’t get the word out, before Hissy was turning on the spot and they were apparating. An image of Draco’s room began to form, but just as Harry’s keen Auror’s eyes made out the blood on the bed and floor, they were apparating again. This time they came out at St. Mungo’s in the waiting room of the maternity and paternity ward, in the corner where emergency apparitions were allowed. There were only half a dozen witches and wizards present, but between the din they were creating and the running around they were doing, the room was chaotic.

            Draco was there cradling a bloody baby to his pajama clad chest, his stomach pronouncedly slighter. He was being helped onto a hospital bed by a pair of nurses, Vile Thing worrying her hands and whimpering behind him. He was panicking, breathing heavy, pulse clearly racing from the vein that could be seen pounding in his neck, and his eyes were wide and scared. There was a pair of nurses casting spells on the baby, exchanging their findings with each other in clipped tones. A third nurse could be heard shouting orders from behind the double doors, where the nurse’s desk was. Another nurse ran into the lobby with a vial full of calming draught, which she insisted Draco take right that minute. Draco protested with a frustrated scream, wanting to know if his baby was okay. The nurse offered soothing, placating, words and said he’d find out how the baby was just as soon as he took the potion. Draco took it.

            Above the sound of all of the adults, there was a much louder and more comforting sound: the wail of a newborn baby. Whatever was going on, Orion Malfoy was not at all happy about it. That was music to Harry’s ears, because Orion had to be alive to be so unhappy. In fact, the baby had to have an extremely healthy set of lungs to be producing such a din.

            “What happened?” Harry asked, running to Draco’s side and taking Hissy with him, because the little elf still clung to his hand.

            “Apparated wrong. Baby came out. Vile Thing brought me here,” Draco said, holding the bloody baby out for a nurse to see. He was quickly going from panicked to out of it on calming draught. The pulse in his neck decreased until it could no longer be seen, his breathing evened out, but his eyes were still wide with fear.

            Harry recognized shock in Draco’s face and voice, which combined with the blood, only amped up his worry. Plus he had no idea apparition could misfire and the baby just pop out like this; with Eiona the birthing process had taken the better part of a day. It was a known fact that wizards weren’t supposed to be able to just miscarry, because the baby’s magic had to join with that of the parent for birth, but here little Orion was outside of Draco’s body less than ten minutes after Harry had last checked on Draco; Draco had been fine then, with no signs of labor. And if apparition had gone wrong, were either Draco or the baby splinched? They were both clearly alive, but that didn’t mean neither was seriously injured.

            The nurse checked that the baby was breathing, before using a spell to cut the cord that was still attached to the baby’s belly. “I need to take him to be checked out and cleaned up. My partner Nurse Butcher is going to find you a room,” one nurse said, taking the baby from Draco’s hands. Before they could okay it, she was rushing towards one of the two sets of doors to the ward.

            A healer rushed in from the other set of doors at that moment. It was a u-shaped ward separated at the front by the nurse’s station, with rows of rooms on either side, and a pair of double doors out to the waiting room at the end of each hallway. Thus the healer turned on his heel, and made a beeline across the nurse’s station after the nurse with the baby.

            The other nurse asked Harry to follow her and began to push Draco’s bed out of the waiting room, through the second set of doors, and into the hallway by the nurse’s station. She paused there momentarily to receive a room assignment from a witch at the desk, before moving the pair of wizards towards a room.

            There was some commotion on the other side of the floor visible through the corridor joining the two main hallways, with nurses and healers darting into the first room. Harry was fairly certain that was the room their baby had been taken into and his eyes lingered, even as he stayed with Draco and walked away. He had half a mind to leave his husband, despite Draco’s shocked state, to check on their son, but the nurse firmly urged him along to follow her.

            Another healer bustled into the room and began casting diagnostic spells on Draco. When they produced favorable results, she asked, “What happened?”

            “I apparated wrong and the baby came out,” Draco answered, now eerily calm due to the effects of the calming draught.

            “How did it happen? What were you doing?” the healer asked.

            “I was hungry and I fancied a change of scenery, so I was going to apparate to the kitchens for a bite. I stood up to apparate, but then the pain hit. It felt like a contraction; a really strong one, like with Eiona. I was already apparating before I realized I was in pain. I heard the sound of the elves in the kitchens, but then the pain made me think of having Eiona; how I had to turn on the spot and come out in the same place, but with a baby. And then that’s what happened and I was back in my room with a baby in my arms.” As Draco explained, the panic began to break past the potion. He became increasingly frantic in his concern for little Orion, but somehow maintained the airy speech of someone dope up on calming draught. “How is he? How’s my baby? Is he going to be alright?”

            “Healer Johnson is examining him, but he looks good. There is every chance this was a clean birth,” the healer answered.

            Both Harry and Draco sighed in relief, Draco finally lying back on the bed and the tension ebbing out of Harry’s shoulders.

            “Thank you healer,” Harry said.

            “It’s Healer Dubois and you are very welcome. Now I am going to turn you over to Nurse Butcher. She will clean you up and record your vitals. I’ll check with my colleague Healer Johnson and see how your baby is and then we’ll see about reuniting you with your baby,” the healer replied.

            Nurse Butcher stepped forward then with a bucket of warm soapy water, a wash rag, and her wand. She vanished the placenta and umbilical cord from the bed, where it had been left at Draco’s side, having come along from the Manor with the baby. Then she began the work of cleaning all of the blood off of his hands and arms. She had barely got him cleaned up, changed into hospital robes, and was just beginning to record his vitals when Healer Smith and a nurse came in pushing a little basinet.

            “Congratulations! It’s a healthy baby boy,” the nurse said; she was the original nurse who had taken the baby from Draco in the first place. Her name tag read Nurse Olsson.

            “Can I hold him?” Draco asked from the bed, Harry having already left his side to rush to peer into the bassinet at little Orion.

            The baby was awake, blinking his eyes open a few times against the light of the room. The little head turned in Draco’s direction and the limbs squirmed under the blanket. But he was no longer crying and he quickly reclosed his eyes, a peaceful look on his face.

            “Of course,” Healer Smith answered jovially. “He’s as healthy as can be; no problems with the birth, despite the circumstances. I’m only sorry I wasn’t there. By the time I received the alert from your house elf and apparated in, all of the action was over with and all I could do was to check your little wizard over.”

            Orion had coal black hair, as dark as Harry’s. The swollen little face was instantly reminiscent of Eiona’s face, due to the fact that both babies looked like Draco. Like Eiona, Orion had Draco’s bone structure including the cheeks, chin, and perfectly arched tiny little eyebrows, but Harry’s ears. The shape of the eyes was different though, with Orion having Lily’s and Eiona having Draco’s. But then Eiona had Lily’s brow, while Orion, like Draco had Cissy’s. The lips too were different, Eiona having Harry’s lips and Orion having Draco’s. Finally the noses were different, Eiona’s already taking on the pointed appearance of a Malfoy, while Orion’s was just a tad thinner at the base and a hair wider at the tip.

            “I think he has my nose,” Harry said, picking the baby up gently to hand to Draco. It was hard to tell of course, having the button shape all baby noses had, but it was definitely rounder than Eiona’s nose had been at birth, which was a good indication that it was from Harry’s side.

            Just as Harry placed their son into Draco’s arms, Orion opened his bright blue eyes. “And maybe your eyes too. Weren’t Eiona’s this shade when she was born?” Draco asked.

            “Yes.”

            “My father will be disappointed neither of his grandbabies have his pale blond hair or grey eyes.” As Draco spoke, he pulled away the receiving blanket and undershirt the hospital had wrapped Orion in, checking for himself that his baby was perfect. He inspected each little finger and toe, making sure that not so much as a nail had been splinched. It hadn’t and Orion was every bit as perfect as his pink face would have one believe.

            “Between the two of them, I think they have almost every other feature of his.” Harry paused then and thought about it, before adding. “But neither of them have his pointy brow and those are my ears again.”

            “Well I’m not going through that again, so he better just be happy with what he gets.”

            “I am very happy with what I got. Merlin, I thought we had another two weeks until this little guy got here. It scared the shite out of me when Hissy came and got me and then there was blood all over the place. I’m just so _grateful_ you are both okay,” Harry spoke passionately, punctuating it with a kiss to Draco’s forehead.

            Draco had been re-clothing his newborn, but paused momentarily in the middle of folding the cuffs of the long sleeved undershirt back over Orion’s hands, which would protect the baby from scratching. He turned then to healer Smith, who was helping the nurse filling out his chart and asked, “Why was there all that blood? There wasn’t with Eiona.” But the pause was short and he didn’t wait for a response before he started rewrapping Orion in the receiving blanket.

            “The placenta separated moments before the birth. It happens sometimes,” Nurse Butcher said with a shrug.

            “When it does happen, the baby either comes quickly or we have to intercede and remove him or her. Luckily it seems to have triggered the birth in your case, Draco, but if it hadn’t, I’m sure those elves of yours would have had you in here lickety split. Then the healers would have removed little Orion before anything bad could happen to him,” Healer Smith said reassuringly.

            “One of your elves is still waiting for you, but the other went home to tell your family,” Nurse Olsson added. She’d gone out of the room unnoticed and come back with a cart of supplies, which she was currently using to stock the changing table in the room with fresh linens and nappies.

            “They were exceedingly efficient in getting you here. I’d say that placenta separated not a minute before you arrived,” Nurse Butcher said.

            “The poor elf is probably waiting for news. Draco, I’m going to go out and send her home. I’ll be back in just a moment,” Harry said.

            Draco nodded and Harry left the room. When Harry came back in a minute later, Nurse Olsson and Healer Smith were gone, leaving only Nurse Butcher and her chart. Harry had Cissy with him, having found her walking into the waiting room just as he was dismissing Hissy with news. Hissy would return to Malfoy Manor and let Lucius know what was happening, before relaying the message to the Weasleys.

            “Sorry it took me so long to get here, dear,” Cissy told Draco, peering over at her grandson in his arms. “Dobson came as soon as the other elves were off. He told me and your father, but it took me a minute to calm your father down enough to convince him not to break his parole by apparating in to see you; you know he’s not allowed into St. Mungo’s unless _he_ is the one having the emergency. Then I had to walk all of the way up from the main apparition area, because I wasn’t part of the emergency. You would think that grandmothers would be granted special privileges, but apparently not.”

            Lucius’ privileges were still steadily increasing. The entire Manor was now cleared and he’d recently been allowed to stay without Harry. There were still plans to grant him access to the other Malfoy properties, but the Ministry had put that on the back burner, in favor of clearing the residents of other Death Eaters who were being released. For now they said he was free to do as he wished around the Manor, but to report back in a month to have the new unbreakable vow cast; they wanted to renew it every month until they finally got around to clearing the properties and could cast the permanent vow.

            “Who is watching for Eiona?” Draco asked. It was the toddler’s naptime when he’d left, but she might wake any time now.

            “Your father, Dotty, and Vile Thing. Don’t worry, she’s in good hands,” Cissy answered, before gesturing to baby Orion. “May I hold him?”

            “Yes,” Draco answered, passing the baby over.

            “He’s absolutely precious. He reminds me of you, Draco, except the hair,” Cissy said, holding her grandson gently and studying his face for the first time.

            “It’s lying flat though, like mine. Eiona’s never did that,” Draco said, reaching out to finger a soft strand of straight black hair.

            “Don’t flatter yourself Draco. Your hair had the same natural wide curl to it as Eiona’s when you were a baby, only yours was soft and fine without a cowlick, like Orion’s here. Your father insisted that curls were undignified for a boy and had your follicles charmed straight. It was years before it took, which was why you wore your hair slicked back as a child, or do you not remember that?” Cissy asked.

            “I remember,” Draco answered.

            “So that is where Eiona’s curls come from!” Harry exclaimed. Of course Eiona’s hair was messier than it was curly, which was why there was the need for setting the curly hairdo with the hair potion every night.

            “Yes, Draco and Eiona got their curls from me, but Orion’s hair is more like my Lucius’,” Cissy replied.

            “It will be nice to not have to cast hair flattening charms all of the time or worry about hair potions,” Harry added.

            “I’m just glad it wasn’t another twenty hour labor. Can you believe that after Eiona took all that time to come out, this little guy takes less than a minute?” Draco asked.

            “No, it happened so fast I think I’m still in disbelief myself,” Harry answered.

            “You still need your rest Draco. I thought you were lying down for your afternoon nap when I received the news. Did you even get to sleep?” Cissy asked.

            “No, I couldn’t sleep for once and then I felt hungry. Now that I think of it, I was feeling a bit achy; it must have been the labor coming,” Draco answered with a shrug.

            “Have you tried feeding him?” Cissy asked, looking down at Orion. “You should feed him and then try to sleep.” She obviously remembered the state of exhaustion Draco had worked himself into after the birth of Eiona and was keen to prevent a repeat.

            “I’m in too much pain to sleep,” Draco admitted, although he hadn’t mentioned the pain before.

            “I can get you a pain potion; Healer Smith authorized one,” Nurse Butcher said and Draco agreed.

            By the time Orion was fed and Draco was doped up on the mild pain potion that was approved for breast feeding witches and wizards, the waiting room was full of visitors, reporters, and camera crews all eager for a peek at little Orion Malfoy. Draco took a nap, while Harry took Orion to the visitors’ room, and Cissy manned the waiting room, sending approved guests back a few at a time to see Harry and the baby.

            Molly Weasley was first in line, having stopped everything to come. Arthur, Ron, and Hermione had all arrived minutes later, and Cissy allowed all four of them back first. Then her family, Dromeda, Druella, and Cygnus were sent back, Teddy having been left with one of Dromeda’s friends so that she could come in. By then Orion was sound asleep on Harry’s chest, so the rest of the visitors didn’t get to see much, but still they came. Harry’s friends, Draco’s friends, more Weasleys, and more of Draco’s relatives were all allowed back in small groups, the nurses having to call in more security guards for reinforcement. Far more people were turned away than allowed back, including all of the reporters and photographers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So all that is left is the Lucius story-arc. I was planning at least three chapters, sort of like when Draco was kidnapped at the end of Blood of the Enemy. The problem is that I haven’t started writing it or even writing the chapter outlines. I need to know where I’m going with it, before I start posting it. If you would like to help me story block the last few chapters, please shoot me a pm. I can’t even decide how Harry should react to the Lucius drama this time around. Should he jump to the wrong conclusions like he did at the beginning of this story? Or should he have learned to trust Lucius to the point that he has the same faith in Lucius Draco has? Or somewhere in between? I just can’t decide how it all should play out and I need to, before I can start posting it. If I rush it, I can probably have in done in two weeks. But, if I get inspired and write more, it might be more like three or four weeks until I can post the next chapter.   
> Please Review! And please keep following this story; I plan on resuming posting within the month.


	29. Chapter29

            Harry came home from work late that Monday evening. He and Ron spent the morning chasing a murder suspect, Ben Harmon, who they had been trying to track down for over a week. They finally caught up with Harmon this morning and captured him in the early hours of the afternoon. Then there were the interviews and report writing. Ron and several other Aurors were still hard at work on the case, but Harry had a family, so he ducked out just in time for dinner.

            Apparating straight into the corridor that led to the smaller of the Malfoy dining rooms, Harry was sweaty, dirty, and tired from a long day of work. But it had been a good, successful day, so his spirits were rather high and seeing the sight of his family gathered around the table brought a large smile to his face. Eiona was sitting in a booster seat, a small plush sprite tucked into her side as she helped herself to a plate of pre-cut meat and veggies, appropriate for a toddler. Teddy was in his own booster by her side, a toy airplane on the table next to his own plate. Draco sat next to Teddy, but was leaning away from him, towards Orion, who was sitting on Draco’s other side in a highchair. Orion, who was now four months old, was being fed a bowl of some mashed green vegetable. Cissy was seated next to Eiona, with the two seats between Orion’s highchair and Cissy open. Lucius, like Harry, hadn’t yet made it to the table, so the adults hadn’t been served.

            Teddy was staying with them, because Dromeda had taken ill. St. Mungo’s said she’d be right as rain in about a week, but in the meantime, Teddy needed a place to go. Draco, being a stay at home father, had readily agreed to take him in. Draco had actually been having Teddy a lot in the last two months, since Dromeda hadn’t been feeling her best in the time leading up to her diagnosis. Thus Harry had given his bedroom over to Teddy, making room for the three-year-old’s box full of toys and drawers full of clothes. Some of Harry’s things were still in the room, but his essentials had been moved into Draco’s room, where he slept every night anyway.

            Draco had mentioned the possibility of raising Teddy fulltime and Harry agreed that they would, if Dromeda couldn’t do it. They had room for the boy in Malfoy Manor, but space was tighter in Grimmauld Place. The renovations at Grimmauld had recently been completed, including a bunk bed in Eiona’s room, so that Teddy could spend the night. When Orion got a bit older, Harry planned on moving the bed bunk over to Orion’s room, so that the boys would room together. For now the children were all too little and it made more since to put the two toddlers together. But still, space was limited there and Harry hadn’t yet told Draco about the changes; he was waiting on the perfect time to reveal the surprise. He had been planning to give Draco the new and improved Grimmauld Place last month as a two-year anniversary present, but the timing hadn’t been right, because of the drama with Teddy and Dromeda. Plus, Dromeda was on the mend and would soon want her grandson back, so Harry figured it would be better to wait a little while longer before suggesting the move.

            “Harry!” Teddy called enthusiastically, the first to spot his godfather.

            “Daddy!” Eiona called, looking up from her meal with a chunk of buttered roll in her hands.

            “Dap,” Orion spluttered, making the mistake of trying to babble with food in his mouth. Orion was a babbler, always making long strings of sounds. D and B sounds were his favorite, along with various vowel sounds.

            “Rion, you need to swallow your food!” Draco chastised, wiping the splatters of green mush off of his own face with a cloth, before spooning up the mush from Orion’s chin and shoveling it back into the baby’s mouth. “Daddy coming home is no excuse for spitting in your father’s face.”

            Rion, pronounced the same as the name Ryan, was Orion’s nickname.

            “Harry, is Lucius with you?” Cissy asked, eyes darting apprehensively to the corridor behind Harry.

            “No, why would he be?” Harry asked, taking the seat next to Orion, but turning the other way to speak to his mother-in-law.

            “He went into the Ministry today to renew his Unbreakable Vow for another week, but he never returned home. We had hoped he was with you,” Cissy answered.

            “I didn’t see him when I was there. Are you sure he’s not on the grounds somewhere?” Harry asked.

            “Positive; I checked with the elves and he is not on the property,” Cissy answered.

            “We are rather worried, Harry. Maybe Father has suddenly taken ill or else the Ministry revoked his parole,” Draco said, pausing with a spoonful of green mush held halfway out to Orion. Orion leaned forward, towards the spoon, and made a chomping motion with his mouth, and at the same time, reached both of his little hands out towards the spoon, trying to grab. But the spoon was just out of reach of the baby. That was a good thing, because the baby was already a mess with green all down his bib, coating his hands, and in his fine black hair, but at least it brought out the green in his eyes. Orion’s eyes were a slightly paler shade of green than Eiona’s or Harry’s; they were mostly green, but there was blue around the edges.

            Given Lucius’ medical problems, his family was understandably worried. They feared a sudden relapse of the Motor Neurone disease or some other medical problem. And with the Unbreakable Vow in the mix, it was a possibility that it had gone horribly wrong and he was dead. In addition, it wasn’t like Lucius was allowed to take off and go anywhere, so it was highly out of the ordinary for him to go missing. Thus they were very concerned that he hadn’t come home.

            “If they were revoking his parole, I would’ve heard about it,” Harry said.

            “We already checked with St. Mungo’s and the Secure Treatment Facility and they do not have him,” Cissy replied.

            “We thought he had to be with you,” Draco added.

            “Well he’s not,” Harry concluded. If he wasn’t so tired from such a long and active day, he probably would’ve jumped on this news more aggressively and come up with a plan of action to do something about Lucius’ absence. But he was tired, his head was beginning to hurt, and he was very hungry. All he really wanted to do was to sit down, relax, and eat a meal with his family for half an hour, before dealing with this.

            “Right, well I will just have to go to the Ministry and talk to his parole officer and find where he went,” Cissy said, standing up.

            “I’m going with you, Mother. Just let me finish feeding the children,” Draco said, setting the spoon in the bowl and wiping Orion’s face.

            “You don’t have any way to track him? The house elves can’t find him?” Harry asked, his brain beginning to get in the right gear. Harry couldn’t let Draco and Cissy go off looking for Lucius without him. One of them was going to have to stay and watch the children, or else they were going to have to call Molly in for help. With three, they probably ought to call Molly in even if one of them did stay. And he, as the Auror, was definitely going.

            Not coming home was unheard of for Lucius and the worry in the room was palpable. Something had most certainly gone wrong and Harry felt the need to be there by his husband’s side looking for his father-in-law. Harry knew that Lucius wouldn’t have stayed away on his own. For the last five months Lucius had obeyed the terms of his parole to the letter and surprisingly, Harry trusted him to continue doing so. Thus Harry agreed with Draco and Cissy that something was terribly wrong.

            “No, house elves do not work that way. If he were on the property, they would know where. And if he called them from anywhere in the world, they would be able to go to him. But he has not called them and they cannot trace him,” Cissy answered.

            “Look, I’m going with, but I really need to eat something first,” Harry said. “Could Vile Thing just bring me whatever? It’ll only take me like five minutes.”

            Draco looked at Harry in disbelief that one, Harry could think about eating at a time like this, and two, that Harry could shovel down a meal in five minutes like an uncivilized barbarian. Draco shook his head, but kept his mouth shut and didn’t say anything. That was the way Harry was raised and he did try to eat properly most of the time, and well, Draco loved him despite his poor eating habits.

            Cissy called Vile Thing to serve their dinner and sat back down. Three plates appeared instantly on the table, but Harry was the only one who touched his, shoveling in the food as fast as he could.

            “I’m going to make a bottle for Rion. Mother, can you watch the children until Harry is ready to go?” Draco asked, releasing the restraints holding Orion into the highchair.

            Draco was breast feeding Orion, which would normally take half an hour or more, but he didn’t have time for that now. If he was going with Harry, then he only had time for a transference spell to transfer the milk from his body into a bottle, which would then be fed to the baby. Normally Orion would get a bath and a nappy change after eating. Draco would do the nappy change before going, but someone else would have to see to the bath tonight.

            “I guess someone does need to stay with the children and Draco should go. Having a blood relative present is often vital in finding a missing person,” Cissy conceded.

            It might be necessary to use any of a number of rituals that required blood from a blood relative to find Lucius. If that were the case, Cissy going instead of Draco would slow the search down. And she knew how seriously her son wanted to find his father, since she’d had to stop him several times in the last few hours from going to the Ministry to look for Lucius and Harry. Plus, she thought that this might be a good bonding experience for her son and his husband. The marriage was going well lately, but the memory of the near divorce was still fresh in their minds. Draco needed to be the one to do this, because it would be good for their marriage. Thus she went against her instincts urging her into action and agreed to stay.

            Cissy turned to Eiona and Teddy to see how the meal was coming along. Eiona had some meat in her hair and bits of roll all down her front, but had almost cleared her plate. By her side, Teddy had his toy plane puttering around his plate, sending his scraps flying. “Teddy, no toys in your food. That is very bad manners.” As she said this, Draco left the room with Orion.

            Teddy removed the toy from his plate, setting it on the table. He pouted, crossing his arms over his chest, and in the process transferred all of the food grime that was on his hands to his jumper. Dromeda had been letting him get away with poor manners at the dinner table when she had him lately and it showed.

            “Call Molly,” Harry said with food in his mouth. He was trying to chew and swallow as fast as possible in a manner reminiscent of Ron. He practically inhaled his food.

            “Alright, yes, that is a good idea,” Cissy agreed. She rose again to leave the room to make the firecall, but turned back to the toddlers when she reached the door. “No messing around you two. I’ll be back in a minute to clean you up and let you down.”

            Cissy was back in less than a minute, having contacted Molly, who arrived two minutes later. The two witches tackled the messy toddlers with cleaning charms, since they were too dirty to make it all the way to the bathtub, while Harry finished eating. Just as Harry put down his fork and began to chug his glass of water, Draco returned with a freshly changed Orion, bottle full of breast milk already in the chubby little hands. There were no longer any signs of the green baby food on the baby.

            “I changed his nappy and did the basic cleaning charms, but he still needs a bath,” Draco said.

            “Teddy, wait; hand over that plane for me to clean before you go,” Molly said, chasing after the toddler she had prematurely freed.

            “Alright, we will handle it. I’ll take Rion now,” Cissy said, taking Orion from Draco.

            “Honestly Draco, I never thought you’d be able to handle these three on your own,” Molly said, handing a freshly Scourgified plane to Teddy. She had seven of her own and had done alright, but she hadn’t pegged Draco for the mothering type until he’d become pregnant with Eiona. And even then, she didn’t think he could handle three children age three and under. She was proud of Draco for stepping up and taking Teddy in while Dromeda was ill.

            “I do have help from the house elves and from my mother,” Draco pointed out.

            “Alright, I’m ready. Cissy, you’re staying here with Molly?” Harry asked.

            “Yes, I will stay,” Cissy agreed. For now she’d trust her son and son-in-law to find her husband. If they didn’t by bedtime, then she’d call in another babysitter and go after the wizard herself.

            And so Harry stood up, wiping his face, before heading to the floo, and Draco followed. The children would be in good hands with Molly and Cissy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, but in the downtime I was hard at work writing the ending. I now have the rest of the story figured out with rough drafts for the next few chapters ready to go! All I have left to write is the last chapter :)  
> Please Review!


	30. Chapter30

            Harry and Draco flooed, one after the other, into the Atrium of the Ministry and walked briskly to the lifts.

            While they waited inside the lift for the correct floor, Harry said, “You know, you Malfoys really should do that spell the Blacks have on your Mum. When I needed to find her, Grandfather Black was able to locate her on a map right away.”

            “It’s an invasion of privacy; that’s why the Malfoys never did it. But, I’m starting to see your point,” Draco conceded. After his own kidnapping and now with his father missing, he did agree that having a locator spell on the family would be convenient. Especially if one of the children ever went missing.

            “I’ll make you a deal,” Harry said, stepping off the lift and leading Draco through the hallways of the Auror Department. “If you agree to place a locator spell on the whole family, I’ll let you place it on me too.”

            “The spell works by last names. A Malfoy cannot locate a Potter,” Draco replied, keeping up with Harry.

            “Then I’ll change my name. Will it work on a Malfoy-Potter?” Harry asked, reaching the office of the parole department. Eiona was a Potter, so he couldn’t completely ditch his last name. Part of him did want to though, thinking that it would shed the Boy-Who-Lived and Savior of the Wizarding World crap. But just his luck and the unwanted titles would follow him, plus, he and Eiona were the last Potters. He felt like a cad when he thought of his dad and all of the Potters that had come before him. So he would keep Potter, but he was ready to try on Malfoy as well.

            Draco was stunned that Harry would consider this. He’d tried being a Potter himself and the name hadn’t fit, although he hadn’t gotten around to having it legally changed back. He never thought Harry would try actually taking the Malfoy name. Now that Harry suggested it, maybe he too could take both last names. He’d use only Malfoy, because Malfoy-Potter was a mouthful, but it wouldn’t hurt to take on an extra last name that he never used. That would be the way to do it if they were placing a locator spell on their two children, one of whom was named Potter and the other Malfoy.

            “Yes,” Draco answered briskly. He would’ve been ecstatic about it, if there wasn’t the fact that his father was missing, and if they hadn’t just reached the office that was responsible for knowing where Lucius was. As it was, his stomach turned in anticipation as he considered the possibilities.

            “Kevin, did Lucius Malfoy report in for his Unbreakable Vow today?” Harry asked casually, entering the room with Draco at his side. It was too casual, considering that Lucius might have broken the vow to return for a new vow and thus be lying dead somewhere. Although Lucius was well aware how serious this matter was and not at all likely to skive off like this. Harry would wager good money that Lucius really was reformed and would have come in on time, if physically able.

            “Let me see…Colburn is his parole officer; he should’ve handled that,” Kevin Smathers said, pulling out Colburn’s binder of parolee case files. He worked the late shift, but he was still due to go home in an hour, since it was so late. Colburn had the early shift and had long since left. There was a third parole officer, who had left at five. “Malfoy…” He was flipping through the folder now, looking for the M section. “Malfoy…Here it is. Lucius Malfoy, Unbreakable Vow recast at eleven AM this morning by Colburn.”

            “So he wasn’t arrested?” Draco asked.

            “He never returned home and they don’t have him at St. Mungo’s or the Secure Treatment Facility. Can I go over the file to make sure there wasn’t some issue? It’s possible something went wrong and Colburn had to retain Lucius for the time being,” Harry added.

            “Be my guest. Have at it,” Smathers said scooting his chair out of the way and leaving the binder open for Harry to read.

            Draco immediately darted into the room to see and Harry followed after, reading the case file with his arm over Draco’s shoulder. The first page, which was a log of the time, date, and casters of the Unbreakable Vows, seemed straight forward and in order. According to the log, it looked like everything went well this morning and Lucius was released. There weren’t any markings in the log to say otherwise and there should be, if something had happened.

            Harry turned the page and started to read through the transcripts of the Unbreakable Vows. He’d been there for the first one, so it was very familiar to him. He was about to flip through to the end of the section, where the most recent one should be, when Draco stopped him.

            “I haven’t finished reading it,” Draco said.

            “This old one is standard stuff. I want to look at today’s,” Harry explained and Draco nodded, allowing Harry to flip through the pages.

            There was something off. The final order should be at the end of the section and it should not have been cast yet. As far as Harry knew, the Aurors hadn’t had time to search and clear the additional Malfoy properties. They were and had been too busy searching the primary residences of the latest batch of parolees. Lucius’ case was on hold pending clearance of those properties, so today’s vow should not be the final one. It should’ve been a repeat of the last vow, which was for a month’s duration. It should be on the second to last page. But, the final page was signed by Colburn and Lucius with today’s date, indicating that it was today’s vow.

            Both Draco and Harry read through the document carefully. When Draco finished, he asked, “Did they clear the other properties and not tell me about it?”

            “Not that I know of. I don’t think they should’ve given him this vow today. I think Colburn made a mistake. But, it does explain where your father might’ve gone.”

            “Yes, let’s go,” Draco said, turning to leave.

            “Hold on a minute,” Harry said and Draco waited. “Kevin, could you contact Colburn and let him know of this mistake?”

            “What kind of mistake?” Smathers asked.

            “They gave him the final Vow when they didn’t clear the properties,” Harry replied.

            “Maybe they did clear the properties. The property reports are in the other folder,” Smathers said, pulling down another binder.

            “Look, we need to find him, so we need to go. If you could just owl Colburn and ask him if he knows where his parolee has gone, that would be great. And it’s already late, so you should leave a message for your boss to look into this error as well,” Harry said.

            “Alright fine. At least it’s not me who’s gonna get his arse handed to him by the boss,” Smathers replied, knowing that his colleague was in store for a dressing down by both Kyffin, the head of the Parole Department, and Senior Auror Dragonrider. Possibly even the Minister of Magic himself might ream Colburn a new arsehole, given that this was the first error made in Fawley’s plan to parole Death Eaters; it was one of the Minister’s running platforms, so it was guaranteed to be important to him. “And I’ll look up the latest property reports for my report to the boss.”

            “Good, let’s go,” Draco said, tugging on Harry’s hand.

            “Where to?” Harry asked, as they walked quickly through the Ministry, back the way they came in.

            “There are three properties, other than the Manor. He could be at any of them,” Draco replied, doing his best to keep pace with his husband. Harry had always been fast and Draco hadn’t yet managed to get back in shape after the birth. He was getting there and had lost all but five pounds of the weight, but he was weaker and slower than he’d been back in school.

            “Which is he most likely to go to first?” Harry asked. They were still walking, but he was starting to wonder if anything was wrong with Lucius at all. Maybe the wizard had simply lost track of time at one of these other properties or decided he didn’t want to come home for dinner with the family. Harry didn’t think Lucius was up to anything illegal; it was more likely Lucius had lost track of time. But, Draco was worried and that was enough to keep Harry on the case. He trusted Draco instincts and if his husband thought something was amiss, then that was all the reason he needed to investigate.

            “I don’t know… Maybe the summer cottage in Maidstone. It is summer; he may want to take the family on vacation,” Draco suggested as they came to a stop at the long line of fireplaces.

            “And the other two properties? What are they for?” As an Auror, Harry knew it was important to get all of the facts, before acting.

            “Well the property outside of Beccles in Suffolk is a farm and the one in Nottingham is a greenhouse. In years passed the farm was manned by elves and all of the Malfoy family food came from there, but we have lost a number of elves in the last two decades and no longer have enough to cover it. The greenhouse used to supply us with potions ingredients, but the operation was closed down when the Dark Lord came back. It required humans to maintain the plants at the perfect conditions and the employees happened to all be Death Eaters…” Draco said with a shrug, leaving it unsaid that the greenhouse had to be shut down because the employees were needed by Voldemort for nefarious purposes.

            “Has your father mentioned getting the greenhouse or the farm going again?”

            “No… We don’t have nearly enough elves for the farm and all of the old employees from the greenhouse are dead or in Azkaban.”

            Their elf population was on the rise, since Harry’s new elf Hissy was pregnant by Draco’s elf Dobson. Vile Thing was also still in her reproductive years and Cissy was trying to arrange a match for her with the elf from the Crabbe family. There weren’t enough Crabbe’s left to warrant their one surviving male elf, whose wife had died trying to protect her Master, Crabbe Senior. The widow, Mrs. Crabbe, could use the money and was considering selling the male elf to the Malfoys. If that happened, the Malfoys would have two pairs of breeding elves, and three pairs in another few years when Dotty comes of age. In the next decade or two, they would finally have enough elves to reopen the farm. In the meantime, the only possible way to get it going would be to hire free elves and pay them a wage.

            If Draco wasn’t so busy with the children, he would be trying to get one or both of the properties going again. With a little work, a bit of capital, and proper underlings, it would be easy to make either the farm or the greenhouse profitable. But for now, his children were little and they weren’t hurting financially, so he was more concerned with being there for them than making money. Maybe when they were older and started school he’d take on the project.

            “Right, so the summer cottage first then,” Harry concluded with a nod.

            Draco went through the floo and Harry followed after, each stepping out into the drawing room of the cottage. It was stifling hot in the room, the setting sun visible through the many windows.

            “Father! Are you here?” Draco called out, leading Harry through the house.

            Harry cast cooling charms as they went. It was clear that the house hadn’t been inhabited in years and he sneezed as their billowing robes stirred up moats of dust. When his eyes began to water, he banished the irritants with a dusting charm. The cottage was much smaller than Malfoy Manor and much more like a normal house. It had a lot of windows with beautiful views of a garden out back and of the ocean in the front. But it was also cozy and much more Harry’s style than the huge Manor. He wondered why Draco had never suggested they live here. With three floors, four bedrooms, two full bathrooms, two half bathrooms, two offices, a sitting room, dining room, drawing room, and a kitchen, it was a bit bigger than Grimmauld Place and just about the perfect size for their little family.

            There was no sign of Lucius in the house or the cellar, which was stocked full of elf-made wine, grape preserves, jarred tomatoes, and cheese. Then they went outside to look around. The house was right on the beach, so they walked down a sandy path to the shore. When Lucius proved not to be there, they turned around. Next Draco led Harry through the garden, which contained a maze of untended grape vines, out of control tomato plants, and overgrown flower beds. Lucius wasn’t there either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think a vacation to the shore might be nice for the family when this is all over. What do you think?  
> Up next they will be exploring the farm and greenhouse and continuing the search for Lucius.  
> Please Review!


	31. Chapter31

            “The farm next?” Harry asked.

            “Alright, but there is no floo. I will have to take you there by side-along,” Draco answered.

            Harry held out his arm and nodded. Draco took it and apparated them to the barren fields in Suffolk. This was a much larger property, but there was less to search. There were acre upon acre of land, but the only structures were a barn and a shed. Lucius was in neither. Harry then lamented that they hadn’t brought brooms so they couldn’t fly over the fields. Draco responded by summoning Dobson the elf and asking him to fetch their brooms. The elf did and they were soon flying the perimeter. They didn’t find Lucius out in the fields either.

            Their final property to search was the greenhouse in Nottingham. It was in the wizarding side of the city, protected from muggle eyes by various spells and enchantments. They arrived once again by side-along, since although there was a floo connection at the greenhouse, there wasn’t at the farm.

            Instantly upon their arrival, Harry could tell that there was an obvious difference between this property and the last and not just that this one was enclosed in glass, while the farm was open to the elements. No, what this place lacked was the dust and air of disuse that the previous two properties had. There were plants growing and thriving in pots and the concrete ground was wet, as if someone had watered them recently. There were fresh weeds and trimmings in the rubbish bin, indicating that someone had pulled them from the pots. And some of the thinner stems were staked, which was a clear sign that someone had put a lot of effort into maintaining these plants.

            “This stuff isn’t supposed to be here. Nothing is supposed to be growing in here,” Draco said, beginning to look around.

            The greenhouse was a long, thin building, separated into four rooms. They started in the first room and made their way down the hall towards the last one. Three of the rooms were lined in glass to let the sun in for the plants, but the second room, which was set up for planting, had a proper ceiling and a fireplace. There were bags of potting soil lined up along the wall next to a stack of pots and fresh dirt on the ground, as if someone had been potting plants.

            It was in the third room where they found Lucius’ body slumped on the ground. This room was filled with large plants that resembled blackthorn bushes. They were in large pots on the ground, with smooth oval leaves and light yellow five petaled flowers. The branches were straight and tall, reaching up over their heads. The room was so full of these plants that the sunlight filtering into the room was tinted slightly green, from having passed through the leaves overhead. And lying on the ground in one of the rows between the large pots was Lucius.

            “Father!” Draco cried out, running to Lucius. He dropped to the cement floor and cradled his father’s body in his arms.

            “Is he alive?” Harry asked, following after.

            Draco was too distraught to be of much use, so it was Harry who checked for a pulse and found one. He also determined that Lucius was in fact still breathing. He didn’t have a ton of medical experience, but he did know a couple of diagnostic spells he used as an Auror. He performed them now and got a positive result for the stunning spell. Lucius, it seemed, had been stupefied.

            “He’s been stunned,” Harry said reassuringly, while looking at Draco. He waited until his husband caught his eye, before continuing. “He’s probably alright.”

            Draco instinctively raised his wand and began to cast the counter-curse, Enervate. Harry stopped him, reaching out his hand to block the wand movement, and said, “Wait! The Unbreakable Vow he took says that if anything were to go wrong, he is to report to the Secure Treatment Facility immediately. We should transport him there first, as a precaution.”

            “But we can take him when we wake him up,” Draco protested, his instincts urging him to act.

            “But we don’t know exactly what all is wrong with him. Something else might’ve been done too. I’m not a healer. Reviving him could make it worse. The Auror book clearly states that in cases of emergency, the best choice is to transport a patient to a proper healer. A real healer will be able to determine the extent of the attack and know what to do,” Harry reasoned.

            Draco nodded his acquiescence and lowered his wand.

            Vile Thing was called then and ordered to transport Lucius to the Secure Treatment Facility. Harry and Draco apparated after. Upon his arrival, Lucius was laid on a gurney and an Auror working security and a healer on duty came running.

            “What happened?” Auror Steven Womble asked.

            “Don’t know entirely. The idiot Parole Officer Colburn fucked up his Unbreakable Vow and granted him access to a property that hadn’t been searched. It was clearly actively being used by someone when we showed up. We found him Stupefied. My guess is that Lucius went there to check on his greenhouse, got in an argument with whoever was there, and they stunned him,” Harry explained as the healer went to work casting diagnostic spells.

            “He’s cold. How long has he been like this?” Healer Shadwell asked.

            “Probably since this morning. He signed his vow at the Ministry at eleven,” Draco answered, worried and agitated over his father’s condition.

            “That’s a long time for someone with his condition to lie on the ground. But, his vitals aren’t too horrible and with the right potions, I should be able to patch him up,” Shadwell replied.

            “And revive him?” Draco asked anxiously.

            “Let’s wait to revive him until we get him patched up,” Shadwell answered, before excusing himself. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to calculate the correct potion dose.”

            Harry and Draco were left to wait there with Auror Womble and a still unconscious Lucius.

            “Draco, we need to contact your mum, so she doesn’t keep worrying,” Harry said.

            Draco nodded and said, “You go; I’ll stay with Father.”

            Harry wasn’t particularly pleased with that idea, since it meant there was a chance Cissy would want to come immediately and he’d be left home with the children. He sighed, but then found the silver lining: if he was stuck at home, he would have time to write an owl to Kyffin and Dragonrider. “Alright, but don’t get yourself too worked up. Come here,” Harry said, pulling Draco close. He nuzzled Draco’s ear and lowered his voice. “Your father is going to be okay. Everything will work out fine. A little medicine and he’ll be up and ready to go home in no time.”

            “How can you be so sure?” Draco asked softly. “What if he’s not?”

            “He’s a Malfoy. Malfoys are strong. He’ll pull right through. You heard the healer; he’s just a tad cold and took a stunner. One little potion and an Enervate and he’ll be good to go.”

            “Alright,” Draco conceded.

            “Love you.”

            “Love you too,” Draco replied and they shared a quick kiss.

            Harry apparated back to the Manor. He found Cissy and Molly finishing up bath time, by dressing a pair of toddlers in their pajamas. Orion was already in his pajamas and lying down for a nap, but he’d be back up for another feeding before he went to sleep for the night. The baby only slept for six hours at night, before he was up needing another feeding, but Draco handled that. Harry got a full night’s rest most nights.

            Cissy stopped what she was doing and looked up at Harry expectantly. “We found him,” Harry said and she sagged in relief, hand fluttering to her chest.

            Harry explained what was going on, as best he knew it, and then offered to stay with the children, while she went to see Lucius. She took him up on that offer and apparated away after a few quick goodnight kisses to Eiona and Teddy. With only the two toddlers, Molly had story time covered, and Harry was indeed able to write his letters to Kyffin and Dragonrider. Colburn was going to be in trouble tomorrow.

            After sending the letters off with a pair of owls, Harry went to Eiona’s room to see how Molly was getting on with the children. Eiona and Teddy were clearly tired, but asking for another story anyway. Orion was still asleep, but due for another feeding within the hour. They had a small amount of breast milk stored for emergencies, but the baby was fussy and didn’t like to drink the stuff that had been frozen, because it tasted slightly differently. Thus it would be better if Draco came home or at least expressed another fresh bottle worth of milk.

            “‘Ory Daddy,” Eiona requested.

            “Tory Harry,” Teddy seconded, holding out a book on muggle airplanes.

            “Yes, let’s hear you read a story, Harry,” Molly agreed.

            “Alright, one story and then you are both going to sleep,” Harry said, taking the book.

            The story was read and the toddlers tucked into their beds, Teddy in Harry’s bed as usual. Harry looked in on Orion and observed that his son was still asleep, but making a pouty face in his sleep. That was a good sign that the baby was hungry and would wake soon. He conveyed that to Molly.

            “Well you best go fetch Draco before that baby wakes,” Molly replied.

            And that is just what Harry did. When he arrived at the Secure Treatment Facility, Lucius was already awake and reassuring Draco and Cissy that all was well.

            “Draco, Rion’s going to wake soon. He’ll need a feeding,” Harry said.

            “Go son; I’ll be here when you come back,” Lucius urged.

            Draco gave his father one last hug, before leaving.

            Once his husband was gone, Harry went out into the hall and found Auror Womble doing rounds. “Steve, have you written your report on Lucius yet?” he asked.

            “Nope. He just woke up and his family was in there with him. I figured I’d give them a minute,” Womble answered.

            “Thanks for that, but we better get his story and write it up. Come on,” Harry replied.

            And so the two Aurors gathered the proper forms and writing utensils, which they brought with them into Lucius’ room.

            “I’m sorry Cissy, but we need to ask Lucius what happened now. Whoever did this to him is still out there,” Harry said, taking a seat by his father-in-law’s bed. He had had a long day, after all, and was getting tired again now that the adrenaline had worn off.

            Cissy nodded and Lucius began answering questions.

            “Why’d you go to the greenhouse today?” Womble asked.

            “I was surprised that I was cleared for the final vow—I didn’t know I would be—and it was the first day I was allowed to,” Lucius answered.

            “So you went because you could?” Harry summarized and Lucius confirmed.

            “And who stunned you?” Womble asked another.

            “Some kids. They were teenagers; looked to be fresh out of Hogwarts. They are probably younger than Draco. They were trespassing. I told them they weren’t permitted there, that I owned the place, and that I wanted them out. I told them I was going to burn their plants. They stunned me,” Lucius answered.

            There were questions then about what the kids looked like. Lucius did his best to describe the three boys who had attacked him, but he hadn’t gotten a good look at one of them and his head was a bit muddled from the attack. He said he thought he recognized one of them, but couldn’t place the boy at the moment.

            “Alright, we’ll see what we can do with that description. If you remember anything more, especially a name, let us know immediately. Now what were the kids doing in the greenhouse?” Womble asked.

            “They were growing coca in that room I was in. The other room was filled with coca seedlings and that room had mature plants. There was something else in the third room. I don’t know what it was, but I bet it was something else illegal. I didn’t study it closely and it’s been years since I grew anything myself. I’m a bit rusty with the old Herbology, I’m afraid,” Lucius replied.

            “I know what it was, but I’m not familiar with coca. That’s illegal then?” Harry asked.

            “It’s not particularly common in this country, but I have seen it before in my travels. It is the plant from which cocaine is made,” Lucius answered. “What was the other plant?”

            “It was nightshade. It’s a highly controlled ingredient that is heavily regulated, because of its use in poisons. You have to have a permit to grow it,” Harry revealed.

            “So the kids found an empty greenhouse and started an illegal coca and nightshade grow?” Womble summarized, but said it like a question.

            “Sounds like it. I think we have enough to file the first report. We need to get the nightshift Aurors out looking for these kids,” Harry concluded.

            The two Aurors left Cissy and Lucius in the room, moving to the small Auror office of the Secure Treatment Facility. Womble wrote the report and Harry sent word to the nightshift to be on the lookout for three teenage kids. Without a proper description, the odds were pretty slim that they’d catch the kids, unless they returned to the greenhouse. But there was a chance that the Aurors might find a clue to their identity searching the greenhouse and all of those illegal plants would have to be confiscated and destroyed. Thus getting a team out to the greenhouse was a top priority.

            By this time it was getting late and Harry really needed to catch some sleep. He went back to Lucius’ room to inform the Malfoys that he was going home. He was no longer needed, so Cissy agreed that he should go and that she would stay with Lucius.

            Harry returned to Malfoy Manor to find Draco asleep in the rocking chair in Orion’s room, the baby asleep in the crib. Molly was the only human up, waiting on the sofa for someone to come home. When she saw Harry go into the nursery, she followed after, and said, “He fell asleep feeding little Rion. I put Rion in his crib, but didn’t have the heart to wake Draco. The poor dear was so concerned about his father that he probably wouldn’t get back to sleep if I did.”

            “Lucius is doing fine. It looks like he’ll make a full recovery. I’m going to take my husband to bed. I think we’ll be alright now, if you want to go. You should get some sleep too; we might need you again in the morning. Thank you so much for coming on such short notice,” Harry said.

            “Oh think nothing of it dear. Happy to help,” Molly replied, throwing her arms around Harry and hugging him like he was one of her sons.

            Molly went home and Harry nudged Draco awake. “Come on, off to bed,” he said as Draco stirred. He pulled Draco up by one arm, which he then threw over his shoulder.

            “Wha? Harry?” Draco asked groggily, still half asleep.

            Harry began leading Draco to their bedroom, whispering, “I just came from seeing your dad. Everything’s fine. Your mum’s staying with him. We’ve taken the report and gotten the Aurors on the case. As we speak, there are people out searching the greenhouse and looking for the people who attacked him. Best get some sleep.”

            Draco nodded as they walked. When they reached their room, he sank down onto their bed, toeing off his shoes, but too tired to change his clothes. Harry changed into his own pajamas before grabbing a pair for Draco and helping his exhausted husband into them. Draco stirred and helped Harry with his clothes, but was soon fast asleep. Harry climbed in the bed and snuggled up close to Draco. Everything would be just fine as long as they were together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I’d planned on having this out sooner, but I was very ill the last few weeks. The good news is that I’m starting to feel better and there is only one chapter left to go of this story! Maybe an epilogue too, although I might combine them.  
> Please Review!


	32. Chapter 32

        The next day was a rather busy one for Harry. Not only was there everything that was going on with Lucius, but also the Harmon case he’d been working the day before needed his attention. It was nearly quitting time before he had a chance to pop over to the Secure Treatment Facility and see how things were going with Lucius. Judging by the large number of Ministry officials crammed into the room and the loud voices that could be heard from down the hall, he got there just in time.

        The bodies gave way and made room for Harry to enter. Cissy and two Malfoy house elves were standing defensively around Lucius’ bed, as if they were worried the officials would attack. Harry went to join his mother-in-law, who greeted him with a curt nod.

        “What’s going on?” Harry asked.

        “They want to force Lucius to give up the names of the children responsible,” Cissy replied.

        “Where’s Mr. Rosier? Why isn’t his attorney here?” Harry asked Narcissa another.

        “I sent Rosier away. I do not need him, because I am not going to talk to these men,” Lucius supplied.

        “The house elves alerted Draco. He’s alone with the children; he’s been by himself all day,” Cissy added.

        “It is part of Lucius Malfoy’s Unbreakable Vow that he is not to be involved in criminal activity. Growing controlled and illegal plants is criminal activity. Not turning over the names of the guilty is aiding and abetting,” a Ministry prosecutor said. “If he doesn’t reveal the names, he won’t be able to leave this facility without violating his Unbreakable Vow. That will result in death.”

        “I would rather live the rest of my life in this facility than sacrifice naïve children. Children who saw no other option to support their families in the absence of their fathers, than to grow black-market substances. What are they to do when they have barely finished school themselves and are suddenly tasked with supporting their families? Their fathers are all either dead or in Azkaban, but their homes have been damaged by the fighting, and meanwhile their mothers and younger siblings are hungry. On top of that, as children of Death Eaters, they cannot obtain jobs in this post-war economy. What do you suppose they do? What does Minister Fawley propose they do? Starve? Watch their families starve?” Lucius asked.

        “The Minister wouldn’t want that. He wants to welcome all magical people back into our society. He would prefer these children to have proper, legal, jobs. But we cannot let anyone get away with growing such dangerous plants, no matter their circumstances. There have to repercussions. And if their families need help, we need to know about it, before we can help them,” another Ministry official said grandly.

        “Find the widows and children of Death Eaters jobs and then this sort of thing will not happen in the first place,” Lucius retorted.

        “We will make Minister Fawley aware of your suggestion. But first, we need to deal with this matter. You are supposed to be our example of the success of the release program. We cannot take back the Unbreakable Vow at this point. You have been given the final one, which will last the rest of your life. Either you tell us what you know, you stay here forever, or you will die. We want you to be able to go home. Don’t you want to go home?” the first Ministry official again.

        “No, I am just fine here. I will not, under any circumstances turn over children. I have done enough wrong to these people. I recruited their fathers. I am responsible for their current circumstances. Blame me for the plants. Lock me up. Let the children be free. Let them have a chance to start over again. Salazar knows that I am an old wizard; I need the freedom far less than they,” Lucius insisted.

        “Lucius is right. These children need a chance. They have never had a first chance. You cannot blame them for doing what they had to do to survive,” Cissy added.

        “This is going to ruin the Death Eater parole program! Once it gets into the Daily Prophet, the backlash will destroy all the positive momentum we’ve gained so far. Do you want that on your shoulders? All of the fathers will remain locked up, because of you,” the second Ministry official again.

        “Better the fathers, who are guilty of real atrocities, than the children,” Lucius replied.

        “You all don’t seem to be getting anywhere like this. What does Minister Fawley say about the situation?” Harry asked. “Where are Kyffin and Senior Auror Dragonrider?”

        “Kyffin and Dragonrider have both been in and out of here all day. Dragonrider is trying to track down the kids. Merlin Harry, what if he finds a lead to them? We can’t let him lock up children no older than you,” Cissy answered.

        “Kyffin put me in charge of this end of things,” Colburn, the parole officer answered. He was the one responsible for Lucius’ involvement in this mess in the first place, because he had given Lucius the final Unbreakable Vow before the properties were clear. “He is trying to handle the press. Fawley wants it over with minimum impact. He wants Lucius Malfoy released and he wants deals made with the children. They will receive the lightest sentence possible by law, which is a week in jail and a fine.”

        “And a criminal record,” Lucius added. “How do you expect them to be able to pay a fine, when they cannot even afford to eat? How can they pay your fine when they do not have jobs? How to expect them to be able to obtain employment with a criminal record, when already the taint of their fathers’ records are preventing them from doing so? Why cannot these children merely be let off the hook for a mistake made out of desperation? I propose dropping the case entirely.”

        “Minister Fawley will deal with that latter. But the longer you stay in here, the bigger this mess becomes in the papers,” the second Ministry official said.

        “Then announce that I am in here, due to illness. I have had a setback in the treatment of my Motor Neurone disease,” Lucius supplied.

        Cissy turned to Harry and said, “Harry, it doesn’t look like we are getting anywhere with these people. Lucius won’t budge and neither will they. Meanwhile Draco is home alone with three children.”

        “Right.” Harry spoke in a soft voice to Cissy, giving her a nod, before raising his voice so that everyone could hear. “Listen up! It’s after hours. There is nothing that grabs the Daily Prophet’s attention more than a dozen plus Ministry employees going at it after hours. Go file your paperwork, consult your superiors, release a benign statement to the press about Lucius taking ill, and come back tomorrow. Lucius needs his rest or he really will have a relapse; just think about what that press release will do.”

        As the Savior of the Wizarding World, Harry’s word held a lot of weight. That combined with the sense he made, had all of the officials gathering up their things, murmuring final messages to their colleagues, and agreeing to depart.

        Lucius was soon left to rest in peace and Harry was free to go home.

       

* * *

 

        Harry apparated home and found Draco in the children’s playroom. Draco was sitting on the settee, deep in a hushed conversation with Hermione, the three children surrounding them seemingly ignored.

        Judging by the fact that Teddy was tearing the pages out of a new book and tossing them in the air, Hermione had come bearing her usual gift of books. Eiona was on the other side of the room, hidden behind the end table with her gift. She was alternating between peaking down at the drawing of various insects, and clutching the precious book to her chest as she looked up and peered around to check to make sure Teddy wasn’t coming after her. Judging by the chaotic state of her frazzled hair and the fact that her cowlick was sticking straight up, she had probably already had a scuffle with Teddy over the books. Her hair being in a disarrayed state was one of Draco’s pet peeves, so the fact that he hadn’t done anything about it spoke volumes as to the importance of what was going on between him and Hermione.

        Orion was the only child without a book, but he was far too little for one on his own and on his own he was. He was strapped into his modified jumper, levitating as far as the contraption would allow, before dropping back down. He never jumped, always levitating instead. That was why the five point harness was added to the contraption, so that he couldn’t float too high. That was also why he’d been allowed in the thing since before he could sit up: to keep him from floating away.

        From the time he could hold his head up, Orion was a levitator. They found him levitating in his basinet in the middle of the night when he was three weeks old. By the time he was a month old, they had installed a five-point harness in his crib, so that he wouldn’t float away in the night. Soon after they had brought out the modified jumper/levitator. Ever since then his levitation had been limited to that contraption, with sturdy five-point harnesses anchoring him down everywhere else they set him down. The baby bouncer seat was tossed out, because it was too lite, and even with the five-point harness, Orion had managed to float himself and the bouncer a foot into the air. The one thing that seemed clear was that they had another natural flyer in the family. Given Teddy’s love of brooms and the fact that Eiona wasn’t that bad with one either, they would probably have half a Quidditch team.

        “No Teddy! That is not how we treat books!” Harry exclaimed, going immediately to Teddy. He took the book away from the toddler, grabbing at the loose pages in an attempt to salvage them before Teddy could destroy them further. It was close, because Teddy raced to snatch up the pages too and even got one first, squealing loudly as he did so. “Hand it over Teddy. Harry has to fix it so that we can read it.”

        “Mine. Mione gave Eddy,” Teddy said, clutching the page tightly to his chest with one hand and pointing to Hermione with the other.

        “I know it’s yours Teddy, but you are ruining it. I want to fix it and then I’ll give it back,” Harry pleaded, before turning his head to his husband and his best friend, neither of whom had budged to help. “Oi, what’s going on? Why weren’t either of you watching him?”

        “Um, Harry, Hermione is going through something a little more serious than a torn book,” Draco said, resting his hand supportingly on Hermione’s shoulder.

        That threw Harry. He’d thought it was the other way around, with Hermione comforting Draco, since Draco’s father with in the Secure Treatment Facility being hounded by Ministry officials.

        “Er, what have I missed?” As Harry spoke, he stood up and placed the remains of the book he had in his possession, not including the page Teddy still held, on the top of the bookshelf, out of Teddy’s reach.

        “Oh Harry!” Hermione exclaimed emotionally, burying her head in her hands.

        Draco wrapped his arms around the witch and pulled her close. He spoke softly, “There now, it’s not all that bad. I told: everything will be alright. Harry, tell her your friend Ronald is not the most horrible stupidest moron to ever walk the Earth. He’ll be decent about this, you’ll see, Hermione.”

        “Ah, I’m a bit left out of the loop here. Why is Draco defending Ron, Hermione?” Harry asked.

        “Rion, help Eddy get book,” Teddy said. He was now standing next to Orion’s levitator, clutching the crumpled page in a ball to his side.

        Fortunately for the adults, and unfortunately for Teddy, Orion was far too little to understand what Teddy wanted. Even if Orion did understand, the levitator had a gravity charm on it, firmly sticking the base to the floor of the playroom, so he couldn’t fly over to the bookcase if he wanted to. Instead Orion said, “Dee de de!” and clapped his hands in excitement, levitating as high as possible and dropping back down for emphasis.

        Harry only gave a momentary glance towards his boys, before he turned back to Hermione. His eyes bore into her, imploring her to tell him what was going on. “Come on Hermione, you can tell me.”

        “Oh Harry! I’ve messed up something awful this time!” Hermione replied.

        “It is not only your mistake. It is Ronald’s too. And come this time next year, I doubt you will be thinking it a mistake. It will work out wonderfully, you will see,” Draco said.

        “Well, don’t keep me in suspense. What happened?” Harry asked.

        “I’m pregnant,” Hermione said.

        Harry’s eyes went immediately to Hermione’s flat stomach. Her hand followed his eyes and she instinctively covered herself protectively. “That’s great!” Harry exclaimed, happy for his friends. Now Ron and Hermione would have a child close in age to his kids. They could do playdates together. Both Hermione and Ron were good with kids, so he didn’t see the slightest problem with this development.

        “It is?” Hermione asked.

        “Yes, it is. You love each other. You’re planning on getting married. Ron has gone ring shopping, but he hasn’t quite gotten the money together. The engagement is pending; just around the corner really. Now you will have a baby together. This is what you wanted,” Harry answered.

        “But I’m not ready! This isn’t how we planned it! Ron is so busy at work, trying to save up the money for the wedding and the house. My career is just starting to take off! What about the werewolf legislation I’m working on?” Hermione asked, getting about as worked up as she used to do about end of the year exams.

        Hermione and Ron were both still living at the Burrow with his parents, because they were saving up for their first place. Ron had never moved out of his attic room. Hermione was now in Percy’s old room, although she did spend the night at her parents’ on weekends. Ron went with her more often than not. They were together in one place or the other far more often than they were apart.

        But that arrangement couldn’t continue once they had a baby. They had been saving up for a house for a year now, but they weren’t nearly there. They didn’t even have enough for the wedding they wanted. Ron had gone into a jewelry shop with the intention of buying a ring and come out disappointed that he couldn’t afford the one he thought Hermione deserved. Babies were expensive and didn’t wait for their parents to get their acts together. They just came. Unless…

        “You will get the werewolf legislation passed before the baby is born. You’re brilliant, Hermione, you can do it. And Fawley has good people working for him; they will pick up where you leave off when you have the baby. Then you will be back in the office, making sure things go your way before you even know it,” Harry said encouragingly, squeezing himself unto the settee next to Hermione, on the other side from Draco. He wrapped his arm, on top of Draco’s, around Hermione, so that they were both holding her.

        “I can’t do it! This isn’t how we planned it. Ron won’t want it this way,” Hermione replied.

        “Ronald will want it however it is. He wants you,” Draco retorted. “Trust me, even I can see how much he loves you.”

        “But he doesn’t even know about this yet! I just went to the healer today and found out myself. He has so much going on at work. It isn’t fair for me to put this on him too,” Hermione said.

        “It isn’t fair not to tell him. It’s his baby too,” Harry said kindly. “That case we’ve been working on is wrapping up. Come this weekend, it’ll be the perfect time to tell him.”

        “But I don’t even know if I should keep it. I’m not married yet. These things have to come in order. First we get engaged. Then married. Then we buy a house. Only after that do we have children,” Hermione said.

        “It doesn’t have to happen in that order anymore Hermione. You sound so old fashioned. Let love and children come when they do, otherwise you may never find happiness. It’s not something that can always be planned. Just look at me and Draco. We have the perfect family and none of it was planned. I couldn’t be happier if I had planned it, because I would’ve never thought of something this wonderful,” Harry said.

        “And you do not seriously want to get rid of your baby. I know you, Hermione, and I know you are not like that. I know how scary it is when you first find out and all of the fears that are running through your head. It’s such an emotional time and so overwhelming. You think you can’t do it, but you can. And this isn’t something you can change your mind on. Once you kill your baby, you can never have this baby back again. You can have another, that is true, but it will not be this one, the first one you and Ronald made with your love. Just look how different my two are: if I had aborted Eiona like Harry wanted me to do and just had Rion, then I would be out one beautiful, wonderful, intelligent princess. And who knows; I probably would not even have had Rion if I didn’t have Eiona first. I didn’t fall in love with Harry until I was pregnant with her. At least with you and Ron you have been dating forever and are already madly in love. You are already halfway there,” Draco argued fiercely.

        Draco wasn’t vehemently opposed to abortion full stop. He had tried several times to brew an abortion potion when he first found himself pregnant with Eiona, because he thought that she was the Dark Lord’s child. That decision had been hard for him, but he absolutely could not let the child of that monster come into this world, so he had convinced himself there was no other possible choice. Once he had the slightest hope that the baby wasn’t the spawn of the most evil wizard to walk the planet, the idea of an abortion became anathema to him. It didn’t matter that the baby was Harry’s—it could have been Peter Pettigrew’s for all he cared—just as long as she was not Lord Voldemort’s. After going through that tumultuous period in his life, he knew he would never be able to have an abortion himself and he didn’t think Hermione was in a position that warranted having one.

        “We did make this baby with our love, didn’t we?” Hermione asked, cupping her belly.

        “Yes, you did. You should go home and talk to Ron about this, Hermione. He’ll be supportive, you’ll see,” Harry said.

        “Or we could invite Ron over and help you tell him,” Draco suggested.

        “I just need to think. Oh gosh, Harry, Draco, I’m taking up all of your time when you have your own problems. You have the children and there is the mess with Lucius and here I am blubbering away…” Hermione said.

        “It’s fine Hermione. That’s what friends are for. I’m glad you came to me,” Harry said.

        “She didn’t though; she came to me,” Draco boasted. “And Hermione, because you came to me, knowing that I would tell you to keep this baby and not someone else who might tell you otherwise, I know you want it. If deep down you weren’t sure or you didn’t want it, you would have gone to someone else.”

        “Yes, I think you are right,” Hermione said with a hint of a smile forming at the corner of her mouth as she squeezed Draco’s hand on her shoulder.

        “Hermione, you can use my room if you need some time to yourself. Just push Teddy’s things out of your way,” Harry said.

        Hermione nodded and excused herself to lie down and think. Before the door was even closed behind her, Harry scooted over and took her place in Draco’s arms.

        “Thank you for taking care of her. I know you must be worried about your dad and I really appreciate that you saw she needed you and were there for her,” Harry said, before initiating a tender, but short kiss.

        “Rion! Fly higher!” Teddy shouted, pushing up on the frame of the levitator, trying unsuccessfully to help the baby break free of the gravity charm.

        “Teddy, don’t encourage the baby to fly any higher than he already is. You are not getting that book back until it is properly repaired and you have learned how to treat it with respect,” Harry said sternly.

        Teddy’s hair turned an angry red and his face scrunched up in an expression reminiscent of Uncle Vernon. “Mine. Mione gave Eddy,” he insisted petulantly.

        “And what will Grandma Dromeda say when I tell her that you destroyed your new book, before we could even read it?” Harry asked.

        “Gran say Eddy good boy,” Teddy replied.

        “Somehow I do not think so. I think she will say Teddy needs a timeout,” Harry retorted.

        “Harry, he’s having a hard time without his grandmother; perhaps you should cut him some slack. I was going to take him to see her today, but then with everything else that has been happening, I didn’t have a chance,” Draco said.

        “I will take him this weekend. Still, he’s been getting away with too much. He’s at that age where he needs boundaries,” Harry insisted.

        “Fine, but you can be the mean one,” Draco replied.

        And so Harry grabbed Teddy up and deposited the toddler on the timeout chair, setting the timer for three minutes. Then he checked on Eiona, who was still happily hiding with her book. She had turned the page and was now staring mesmerized at the image of a butterfly, magnified so that all of the creepy insect parts, like the mouth, body, and legs, could be seen in detail.

        “Harry, there is something we need to talk about,” Draco said, patting the seat Harry had just vacated, in an effort to get his husband to sit back down next to him.

        “Yeah?” Harry asked, quickly checking the integrity of Orion’s harness. Once Eiona had managed to work the straps loose and free her brother, but that wasn’t the case this time. Orion was firmly ensconced in his contraption and seemed happy, so Harry went back to sit next to his husband.

        “I want to offer Grimmauld Place to Ron and Hermione. It will be a good starter home for them. It’s too small for us, but perfect for them. With a baby coming, they will need a home. And this way they can concentrate on the wedding and buying the things they will need for the baby, instead of worrying about where they are going to live,” Draco said.

        It was such a touching suggestion that Harry wanted to agree, but he’d just had all that work done on the old townhome, so that it would be the perfect place for their family. He hadn’t even had the right moment to do the big reveal yet, since they had Teddy with them. “Draco, it makes me so happy that you would be willing to do that for my friends…” he trailed off, not sure how to say this, without giving the surprise away.

        “Look, I know we haven’t talked about this, but I think you have always planned that we would move back there. Am I right?” Draco asked and Harry nodded. “And you think by offering it to Ron and Hermione that we never will?”

        “Well, yeah. We can’t just kick them out in a year.”

        “Grimmauld Place isn’t the sort of place they will want to stay, trust me on that,” Draco said, still clueless to how much better the place looked these days “They will buy their own house and move out just as soon as they get the money together. Plus, Grimmauld Place just isn’t big enough for us. I have been thinking about that too. Teddy needs stability and Dromeda has not been giving it to him. She has been letting him get away with murder, because she hasn’t been feeling well. We can’t just send him back to her once she is released from hospital. A recovering elderly witch and a toddler do not make a good match. Someone needs to care of both of them.”

        “You want to keep Teddy a little while longer?” Harry asked.

        “Yes and I want to keep my Aunt Dromeda too. There isn’t room on this floor, but there is a guest bedroom on the first floor she can have. That way she will be close to Teddy, so he won’t have to miss her so much. Plus our elves will be able to take care of her and watch after her. They will alert one of us if she needs help or take her back to hospital, if it’s an emergency. If she recovers fully and wants to take her grandson home, then fine. But for now, I think they are both better off here. I would like to make the offer next time we see her; she is supposed to be getting out soon,” Draco answered.

        “Alright, that makes since. And I guess we should let Ron and Hermione borrow Grimmauld Place…it’s just that I sort of had a surprise for you.”

        “What sort of surprise?” Draco asked excitedly. He liked receiving presents.

        “I had it remodeled, so that you would like it more. There was no point in owning a home when my husband hated it.”

        Draco engulfed Harry in a hug and initiated a passionate snog, which was interrupted by the timer buzzing, indicating that it was time to let Teddy off of time out. Teddy jumped off of the chair by himself and went immediately to play with one of his muggle toy airplanes, which was in the corner of the room.

        “I would like to see it. It makes me very happy that you were thinking of me like that, but I still think we should give it to your friends. They need it more,” Draco said.

        “Alright. I just really didn’t want to live with your parents forever,” Harry admitted.

        “We don’t have to. Once everything settles down, we can move to our summer house by the south shore. Were you not just asking why we didn’t live there?” Draco asked.

        Harry recalled the beautiful vacant property. It wasn’t huge, but it was just enough bigger for their family. There each of their three children could have their own room, with plenty of room for him and Draco. “We will have to wait until Dromeda moves out, won’t we?”

        “Not necessarily. Soon Rion will be old enough to share with Teddy,” Draco answered.

        “Yes and can you imagine it? Teddy figuring out how to free our son in the middle of the night. Then all he has to do is summon a broom and the two of them will be zooming about while we are fast asleep.”

        “If that happens, the elves will alert us,” Draco said, pressing another kiss to Harry’s lips.

        “Alright. Do you want to tell Hermione, or should I?” Harry asked.

        “You tell her. It’s your house and she’s your friend,” Draco replied.

        “She’s your friend too. She made that pretty clear when she came to you first over this.”

        “I think she wanted to go to Molly or one of the other Weasleys, but thought they were too close to Ron. She wasn’t ready to tell her parents yet, so I was the safest neutral person who she could count on to tell her to keep the baby.” Draco shrugged, brushing it off.

        “Still, it means a lot to me that you are getting on. You have experience with this parenting thing and you’re pretty brilliant at it, so I’m sure she’ll want to come to you for advice all of the time now.”

        “Well go on and talk to her. Find my old books on pregnancy for her; I think I left them at Grimmauld.”

        “Yeah, she will like that.” Harry smiled, imagining how his friend would soon throw herself into pregnancy research.

        “Now that that is settled, I need to get these children fed and then bathed. Hermione is welcome to join us for dinner. Did my mother mention if she would be home tonight?”

        “No, I don’t think she will be. I don’t know how much the elves told you, but your dad knows who attacked him and he isn’t telling. The Ministry officials are pretty riled up about it. They were swarming him, trying to get him to give up who did it, but I sent them all off. I think your mum will want to sleep there to protect him,” Harry answered.

        “Yes, I know. He will not testify against children, Harry. That is a lost cause right there. You best tell whoever is in charge of the investigation to give up on that one. My father is about as stubborn and pigheaded as they get.”

        “Tell me about it.” Harry sighed.

        They shared another quick kiss, before Draco freed Orion from the levitation contraption and called the pair of toddlers to follow him down to the dining room for supper. Harry made a quick detour to Grimmauld Place to retrieve the books, before going to talk to Hermione. He convinced her to go home to Ron and tell her almost-fiancé what was going on.

       

* * *

 

        Lucius never did give up the names of his attackers. Instead Minister Fawley was forced to pardon the crime, in order to keep his parole program going. Once Lucius was free again, he went to work getting the greenhouse and farm going again, both of which he hired children of Death Eaters to work. He took anyone who was willing to do the physical labor, even those young greenhouse workers who had attacked him. He used the proceeds to start a charity to help the pureblood witches left without their Death Eater husbands and their children.

        Ron was ecstatic to hear Hermione’s news. He rushed out and purchased the ring he could afford, abandoning his dreams of the ring Hermione deserved. This one had a much more modest stone. She loved it, not caring that it wasn’t particularly grand; she was just relieved to finally be engaged, now that their first child was coming. They had a rushed and small wedding ceremony at the Burrow, before officially moving into Grimmauld Place. They loved Harry’s renovations. Their little family lived and grew in that house. Rose was born there and Hugo followed a year and half later. But by the time Hugo was three, they had finally managed to scrape together the money for a down payment on their own home. Not that they hadn’t been happy in Grimmauld, but it wasn’t theirs and they wanted to give it back.

        Dromeda accepted Draco’s offer and moved into the guest bedroom on the first floor of Malfoy Manor. Teddy was more grounded with his gran around and his manners soon returned. Harry and Draco continued to live at Malfoy Manor until the following summer, when they moved into the Malfoy cottage in Maidstone. It needed a bit of toddler proofing, since it was right on the shore, but a few barriers charms did the trick. But it was close to Leeds Castle, where they had gotten married, and Harry soon fell in love with it. They raised their children there and only returned to Grimmauld Place when they were older and wanted to give the cottage to Eiona to raise her children. Malfoy Manor went to Rion and Teddy inherited his grandmother’s house when she passed from old age.

        And this time they really did live happily ever after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long, but I didn’t plan on taking ill. On the plus side though, I think I still got this story finished sooner than the average author does. I have a lot of work to catch up on this month and I have another story that I’m writing, so I will not be starting a new story just yet. The next thing I post will be my entry for the HD Cliché fest. It’s a veela mpreg story called The Reluctant Veela. It starts off after the war when Harry is assigned guard duty at Malfoy Manor. And although Draco doesn’t want to, the veela part of him choses Harry for a mate.   
> If you have read and enjoyed this story, please favorite and leave a review! Thank you to everyone who helped me form this story; it wouldn’t have been possible without the response from you readers!


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